Private Sessions
by Richonne Writing Network
Summary: What is the dangers of mixing business and pleasure? For Rick Grimes and Michonne Evans, well, there really isn't any. Good old fashion adult fun with the help of modern technology. Plot written by: Avintagekiss24. Collaboration written by The Richonne Writing Network.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**: First Meet

by: _charrrmed_

Michonne Evans hopped out of the Uber before it came to a complete stop and hustled to the restaurant. She glumly mulled that this would be one more thing for her to sulk about while she laid in bed later tonight. Not that she didn't have other things to think about, but she was late for a meeting with Rick Grimes, CEO of Grimes National: the largest privately owned trucking company in the United States. She was on the precipice of solidifying the largest merger that her firm had ever handled. If she succeeded in convincing Rick Grimes to part with a lot more money, she could potentially gain the firm a hot new client: Grimes National.

That usually happened. Companies who were on the other side of her firm's services usually came a-knockin' after they saw her or her partners in action.

She had a stellar reputation, and she had worked her ass off to make her name part of the company name. The pièce de resistance had been when she on-boarded the company that she was representing tonight: Greene Cargo.

Lately, however, she had been off of her game. She had lost two clients. They weren't high profile by any means, but the losses stung nonetheless. She'd made rookie mistakes and overlooked red flags. She blamed it on her recent breakup. Which she found even more pathetic.

But she couldn't think about any of that now.

She reached out and caught the door to Perry's Steakhouse & Grille just before it closed behind a quintuplet of departing patrons.

It was her first time in the restaurant, and she immediately changed her frantic and irritated mood to match the ambiance inside: quiet, subtle, composed, and relaxed. And money. She knew money, and she made money. She knew her shit, and she was here to talk Rick Grimes out of 50 million dollars.

Could she do it in one sitting?

She lived for this. The richer they were, the more thrill she got out of it.

She put the jittery energy aside and settled into sixteen years of experience. Her strappy heels clicked on the oak wood floor as she made her way to the hostess. She got sidetracked by a mirror to her right and veered off to examine herself a final time.

She was wearing a long, flowy maxi dress. The white bounced off of her smooth dark skin, and the mustard yellow and navy blue accents gave the dress eccentric character that she liked. It had a wicked split that started above the middle of her left thigh.

She was by no means employing tricks. She didn't need them. She just loved the dress, and she'd worked long and hard enough that she could now wear whatever the hell she wanted. Besides, unless it got very gusty inside of the restaurant, she would be fine.

Her locs were pulled into a high ponytail, and she ran her fingers through the curled strands until she reached the tips and let them swing, feeling them brush the middle of her back. She ran delicate fingers over the thick gold chain around her neck and smiled when her three gold bracelets caught the soft light and twinkled.

She wore natural makeup, nothing that popped out. She wanted her outfit and jewelry to do the talking, so she'd kept her makeup neutral, down to nude brown lipstick and gloss. She was fine, if she did say so herself, which made her four-month old emotional and mental funk even more annoying.

But she wasn't here to navel gaze. Her large navy blue clutch in hand, she glided back to the hostess, the dress billowing behind her.

"Hi. I have a meeting with Rick Grimes."

"Okay, your name?"

"Michonne Evans."

The young woman scrolled through the iPad and found her name. "Mr. Grimes is already here. This gentleman will show you to your table."

A young man, a little shorter than her Andre but sporting the same high top fade stepped out on her left. "My name is Lucas. Please follow me."

Michonne walked slightly behind him as he led her to where Rick was. Of course Rick was already there. She was twenty minutes late! She had texted to warn him but still.

As they walked, she took in the restaurant. It was an open floor plan, the rooms separated by burnt-orange curtains, which were all currently open. Despite the full house, the conversations were hushed, even the laughter. She liked it. There were tables small enough for two and tables big enough for sixteen, all covered by two sets of table cloths, one off white and the one on top brown.

She wondered why all of these people were here on a Thursday night, but she didn't spend too much time on it.

Lucas led her to the carpeted area and then to a private booth for two. There were curtains on either side of the booth, in case privacy was desired. There were about five tables in the room. The booth's curtains were red, and the booth itself was a cozy brown.

"Here you go," Lucas said. "Your waiter will be right with you. Do you need anything?"

"No. They don't give you any trouble about your hair, do they?"

Lucas smiled, which made him look even younger. "No, they don't."

"Good. My son wears his hair like that. Thank you."

"Enjoy your evening."

She sat in the booth, remaining on the edge so that she could easily stand to introduce herself to Rick, and turned her head to watch Lucas walk back to the front, suddenly missing her son. She made a note to call him tomorrow, even though they'd spoken that afternoon.

She faced forward, and the sight before her made her pause and take special notice. Rick Grimes. She knew what he looked like from searching the internet. He was standing in profile now, talking on the phone. He wore a crisp white shirt that was untucked, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had one hand in his pocket. She recognized the brand of watch he wore, because she owned one: Vacheron Constantin. He had good taste. And good, veiny forearms. His skin was tan, which made her wonder if he spent a lot of time outside. That would be better than the alternative: tanning booths. He looked too attractive to be a regular at tanning salons.

Rick was done with the insufferable conversation. "Hey, Eugene. Eugene. Fix. My fuckin'. Transition team. You do realize that without a good team, we're fucked, right? I need a team to make sure everything runs as smooth as possible when this merger goes through. I need people in place. Okay, then fix it. I want options by the time I land tomorrow. I'm hangin' up now. Bye."

Rick followed through and ended the call. He took a deep breath and released it, hoping to steady his irritation. He hated Eugene. He hated his voice and his mannerisms. At nearly sixty, Eugene was too old to have such sniveling ways. When the he was good, he was good, but when he wasn't, Rick wanted to ask him why he was alive.

Maybe he should call for a mediation between him and Eugene. These feelings weren't healthy.

He discarded the mediation idea. He liked hating Eugene.

He began to return to his table and stopped in his tracks. A beautiful woman was sitting in his booth. Her hands were stacked under her chin and her lips were parted, beautiful lips, he decided when he glanced at them. She was watching him.

She sat up straighter, which forced him to recover. He needed to tell her that the table was taken. He was meeting with an accountant. And then it occurred to him that she probably was the accountant.

She didn't look like _his_ accountant.

He continued the short distance to the table, hoping that his hesitation had not been obvious. She stood and held out her hand.

"Mr. Grimes. Michonne Evans."

"Rick Grimes," he said, impressed by the firmness of the shake. "And you know that. You just said it. I'm sorry," he said, chuckling.

"It's okay. For all you know, I could've been waiting for Frank Grimes. Speaking of waiting, I'm sorry again for being late."

Rick realized that he was still holding her hand and let go. "It's alright. Please, have a seat. To be honest, I barely noticed, because I was stuck on a phone call for…"

He settled into the booth and pulled out his phone to look at his recent call. "Twenty-five minutes. And there's your text."

Michonne hadn't expected such a prominent southern accent, despite having learned that he was born and raised in Georgia, where Grimes National's headquarters was based. He also was a lot more handsome in person. The harsh flash from the photographers' lens did not do him justice. He also had not been photographed in a while, because nothing existed of him with this haircut: closely cropped, a very short high top fade, with the hairs growing in on the side. He also had a neat salt and pepper beard. She almost made a sound of approval.

"And here I thought it was bad news that you didn't respond," she said.

"Sorry. I was dealing with bad news of my own."

"Is everything okay?"

Rick sighed. "A bunch of b.s. that I'm _confident _will be taken care of by the time I get back tomorrow."

Or heads will roll. Michonne didn't need him to say that part. The promise was in his steely blue gaze.

Rick flexed his neck and said, "Bad time for me to have stepped down as Chairman of the Board. But I'm here now. How was your flight in?"

"Good. Zero turbulence."

"First class?" he asked with the hint of a smirk.

Michonne grinned. "Yes. First class. Thank you for the offer, but…I had it. Do you usually fly in your counterparts?"

"Only when I care that I'm inconveniencing them." And seeing her now, he would've funded her flight, her hotel, and her meals if she'd agreed. He glanced at her left hand and didn't see a ring. Not that it mattered. Much. After all, they were here to conduct business. Nevertheless, it was nice to sit across a beautiful woman.

"I would've been inconvenienced either way," Michonne said.

"Yeah, but Chicago to Atlanta ain't the same as Chicago to Dallas."

She shrugged. "An extra hour on the plane. Doesn't bother me. Besides, booking it myself means that I get to stay here through the weekend. I've never been to Texas before, and audit season is very soon, then tax season is after that, so I'm going to enjoy this while I can."

"We have a second office here, so I came to check on the operations. I squeezed in two more days, because my daughter goes to University of Texas at Austin. Like you said, audit season is coming. Fiscal year's ending, reports are due, planning for next year, the whole nine, so I thought I'd take advantage of something good while I can."

"How old's your daughter?"

"Eighteen. She's in her first semester. You don't know this, but it is a big deal that I waited until October to come see her."

Michonne chuckled. "I'm sure she appreciates that."

"And I have a son who's twenty-one. He's been studying in Spain, and he's starting to talk about staying there after graduation, and that's…not a possibility I can handle."

"Hey, you know what? We raised them to be comfortable, and confident, and well-adjusted enough to make those decisions."

"You have kids?"

"One. A boy. He's 19 and studying at the Pratt Institute."

"I've never heard of it."

"It's a private school in Brooklyn that mainly focuses on art and design."

"An artist," he said, impressed.

"Like his mom. Except I didn't study it. And I don't really want him to either. He's majoring in graphic design, and I'm trying to guide him to the school of architecture," she said as she cupped her hands and moved it from one side to another.

Rick chuckled. "You just said that we raise them to be confident enough to make those decisions."

"That only applies to _you_," she quipped, and he laughed harder.

Their conversation was interrupted by the waiter, who looked to be in his early 30s.

"Good evening. My name is Whitaker, and I'll be your waiter tonight. Can I get you started with drinks and appetizers?"

"Oh, I haven't even looked at the menu," Michonne said as she grabbed it.

"That's fine, ma'am. I can wait here, or I can come back in a few minutes."

"Whichever works best for you," Michonne said with a quick glance at him.

"Sir, are you ready to get started?" he asked Rick.

"I'll wait for her. I'd like to pay for this dinner, by the way," he said to Michonne.

She looked at him and smiled.

Rick wanted more of it. "Is that a yes? Order whatever you want."

"I take people seriously when they say that."

Rick gestured to the menu, signaling for her to have at it.

Michonne twitched her lips and returned to the menu. "Do you have something in mind for the appetizer?" she asked him.

"The shrimp cocktail."

"I'll go with that."

"Would you like one for the table or two?" Whitaker asked.

She looked to Rick for a decision.

"One," Rick answered.

Michonne began running her hand over the necklace as the waiter took down the order. Rick found her fingers distracting, the way they smoothed over the metal. He wondered how strong her grip would be, wrapped around his throat and his-

"I'm going to skip the soup and salad," Michonne said contemplatively. "I'll have the prime New York strip, rare."

Rick nodded in approval. "You know how steak should be eaten."

"My parents think I'm a monster."

"I'll have the same thing but with the bone in," he told the waiter. "I called two days ago to make sure it'd be available? Rick Grimes?"

"Yes, sir. I confirmed with the chef that we do have it."

The sides were served family-style, so they had to choose together.

"I was looking at the macaroni & cheese," Rick said.

"That's fine and sweet sriracha brussels sprouts?" Michonne offered.

She got a frown for an answer. "Oh, come on," she encouraged.

Rick liked her voice a lot. It was smooth and melodic. He signed. "Fine. Don't be surprised if I hog all of the mac & cheese."

"Uh, you can't do that."

"Is Cabernet Sauvignon alright with you?" Rick asked her with a big smile.

"Yes and a glass of water with lemon, please," she said to the waiter.

"I'll buy the bottle, and I'll also have water with lemon," Rick told the waiter.

"I'll bring the drinks and appetizer right away," the waiter replied while collecting the menus.

Michonne watched him walk away. "What did he say his name was?" she asked Rick when the man was out of earshot. Her heart jumped, because Rick was watching her.

"Whitaker," he answered.

"I bet they hired him for his name alone. Okay, let's get down to business."

Rick sighed internally. He did not want to get down to business. He wanted to learn more about Michonne Evans. He wanted to experience more of her humor. He hoped that her business acumen was as impressive as her looks and personality were so far.

"Maggie is very interested in your offer to buy Greene Cargo, but the price isn't right yet."

Rick burst into laughter. "Wow. You weren't kidding when you said let's get down to business. You don't wanna ease into it?"

"I think we've done enough easing," Michonne said, smiling.

Rick nodded. "You're right. Coy has its place."

"You know, I'm surprised that you're not here with your accountant."

"I know the numbers. I pay her well enough to tell me what they are, and I actually pay attention."

Michonne was impressed. Her reaction, however, was to shake her head. "On behalf of all of us in the profession, thank you."

Rick smiled. "Trouble?"

"Investment with no return," she answered. "My time is valuable, and there is no sense in me giving you advice if you're going to ignore it and then turn around and need my help to rescue you. A client that we have," she elaborated with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm trying to convince my partners to drop them."

Michonne's partner was Jacqui Prescott. Rick had done his research, too. Jacqui and Michonne were a force together, representing many companies with which he was very familiar. Michonne had spent a decade rising through the ranks. The company now bore her last name. It used to be called Prescott & Co. Now it was Prescott, Evans, & Co. Apparently, Michonne had not wanted to be lumped in with everyone else. From what he'd been told about Jacqui Prescott, that had to have been one hell of a fight. Now that he'd met Michonne, he was interested to hear how she got her name on a thirty-six year-old company. He knew that took grit.

"A new year is around the corner. New beginnings, right?" Michonne asked.

"Right," he answered. "Which is exactly my mindset for this merger."

"I'm assuming that, like me, you didn't come to this decision lightly," she said as she leaned forward on the table. "Rick, you want to acquire a company with a fleet of 19 planes. You're getting all of them, plus relationships with the agriculture and food, automotive, and healthcare industries that Greene Cargo's cultivated over the last seventy years. You're literally getting the _sky_. And you're offering two hundred million for it."

"The company's worth 375," Rick said as he mirrored her position.

Michonne liked the way he pronounced five. "That's the hard line valuation. You're not thinking about the blood, sweat, and tears."

"Oh, come on," he scoffed as he leaned back.

"I'm serious!" she said as she mimicked his position.

"Let's talk about why Greene Aviation wants to sell. Right?" Rick asked. "They didn't conform to the environmental standards after the laws were updated. They cut corners. They cheated. Greene wadn't so green, and the EPA came down on 'em hard."

"Maggie wants to sell," Michonne enunciated slowly, "For the same reason that you want to buy. It is potentially a worthwhile endeavor. If you can increase the price by 50 million."

"Excuse me?!" Rick balked. "I am keeping her on as an advisor. She's going to get a salary and benefits on my dime. I'm putting some of her people on my transition team as soon as this merger happens: more people getting paid. That factors into the price."

"I don't like that word: advisor. It's so flippant. It's stripped of everything she and her family have done to make Greene Aviation attractive to you. Things that will be at your disposal if this merger happens. Things that I think you acknowledge by inviting her to be an advisor and putting some of her people on your team but that I think you're leaving out of the price. You've rightly realized that having Maggie on board will make Grimes National's venture into the air cargo business easier. The bottom line is that you need to do more than invite her to advise you and use her people, Rick. You need to pay her for the nice, cushy setup you're getting: an established company, with an established fleet, with established connections. What the Greene family has done with Greene Aviation is going to save you a lot of headaches."

Rick was going to respond but was delayed by their waiter.

Whitaker set the waters down. The tension between the pair made him uncomfortable, but he wasn't sure that the sudden silence that fell when he appeared was laced with malice. The restaurant didn't get a lot of arguing patrons, but it was always awkward when conversation suddenly stopped. He put down the shrimp cocktail as well as two small plates and asked if he could get them anything else. When Rick said they were fine, he gladly left, barely hearing Michonne's thank you directed his way.

"Do you mind?" Michonne asked Rick as she gestured at the cocktail.

"Please," Rick answered. He watched her put half of the shrimp on her plate, his focus once again on her slender fingers, painted with a clear gloss. A smile tugged at his lips. He liked this conversation, although he hated being told what to do. Well…in certain instances. Something told him that, in another, freer context, he would enjoy Michonne telling him what to do. He wondered how bossy she could get behind closed doors.

Or curtains. He looked at the plush red curtains that were currently letting the other patrons into their business. Not that anyone was paying attention to them.

Frankly, he was surprised at how much his thoughts were veering toward sex with Michonne. This had never happened to him during any of his previous business dealings. He didn't worry, though. It wasn't like anything was going to happen. Then again, he wouldn't be upset if something did happen. He was sure that she was as much of a mature adult as he was.

"Are you smiling because you're starting to see things my way?" Michonne asked.

Rick's pulse quickened, but he remained outwardly composed. Placing four jumbo shrimps on his plate, he said, "I'm smiling because I have options, Michonne." He dipped the shrimp in the red sauce and took a bite.

Michonne had known that he was going to counter with that at some point, because she left no stone unturned. That was why the mistakes she'd made with her last two clients bothered her so much.

"Are you talking about Cargo Executive?" she asked. "Have you heard the rumors that Jadis plans to change the name to Jadis Executive? A fifty-year old company and ever since she took over as CEO, it's been up and down. She's erratic, and you'd probably end up with no merger at all. And then there's Conway Express. Negan would be a thorn in your ass and an albatross around your neck. Chances are he wouldn't want to just advise; he'd want a controlling stake."

Rick nodded slowly, very impressed. "You do your homework."

Lifting one shoulder, Michonne said, "I'm sorry if you expected less."

"So you know Jadis and Negan. We run in the same circles, but we've never met before," Rick wondered with a tilt of his head.

"I don't know them personally. I'm adjacent to that circle," Michonne explained. "I'm very connected in the accounting world, and, like you said, I do my homework. But I don't think I told you anything about them that you don't already know. If I did, then I'll be disappointed, because I walked in here expecting more. You do have options, Rick, and, so far, you chose the right one."

Rick grinned as he fingered the brown tablecloth. Michonne seemed like the right one. The right one to do more than talk business with. He was glad that he hadn't met her at some party, or award ceremony, or crowded dinner. He was happy to have her attention all to himself.

"I want to be in the air," he stated. "That's the next step for us. I see a board meeting in my future," he said, sighing. "I'll see about getting you your money."

A wave of excitement coursed through Michonne, and she privately delighted in it. This feeling never got old.

"You said you stepped down as Chairman not that you were pushed out, so I'm sure your opinions still carry a lot of weight."

"And I intend to keep it that way," Rick said. "I stepped down, because I wanted to strike more of a work-life balance, but I don't want to ever distance myself from the board. Speaking of which," he transitioned as he folded his arms on the table and leaned forward again, "Can we get back to a normal conversation now?"

Michonne's excitement turned into giddiness. Their conversation has had a flirtatious tone since he sat down. Just a tone, though, just enough for them to be able to deny everything, just enough for her to question if she was reading into things. But he just implied that their non-work conversation was about the life part of his work-life balance. And she definitely wasn't reading into the current expression on his face.

The conversation became more and more flirtatious when they moved from the appetizer to the entree, and it reached another level when Michonne commented on his watch during desert.

"I was admiring that earlier," Michonne said, indicating with her chin.

Rick looked at his watch and then laid his wrist on the table. Michonne cradled his hand, and he shivered like he was touch deprived.

"Vacheron Constantin," Michonne said in a perfect French accent, her mind split between the watch that she was looking at and how warm his skin was. She wondered what it would be like to be covered in that warmth. "I have a dark brown one with a pink gold crown. I like big watches. I have my eye on the one that tells you the phase of the moon, for my birthday."

"When's your birthday?" Rick asked.

"February first." She looked up and found him watching her again. It had been a long time since a man made her feel so excited. "What?" she asked smiling.

"I wanna ask you somethin', but I don't know if it's appropriate. Actually, considering why we're here, I know it's inappropriate."

In Michonne's wildest fantasy, he would ask her to go back to his hotel room right now. On one hand, the fantasy made her feel desperate. It had been that long since she even talked with a man who excited her. After leaving a two-year relationship and an eleven-year marriage prior to that, she was beginning to believe that her expectations were unrealistic.

Nevertheless, she pushed through the feeling of shame and said, "There isn't much you could ask me right now that would be inappropriate."

"Are you seeing anyone?" Rick asked with bated breath.

Michonne moved her hand up his hairy forearm and caressed her way back down, grinning when his skin tightened with goosebumps. "No, I'm not," she answered as she met his eyes.

When she reached his wrist, Rick turned his hand over, and she started drawing circles in his palm. The attention stoked his arousal. He decided then and there that he wanted to end the night with her.

"You?" she asked.

"I'm single," Rick confirmed, and he closed his hand around hers.

Rick paid for the dinner with his company's credit card. The waiter put the wine bottle into a tan linen bag and tied it with a navy blue bow.

Michonne and Rick figured out that they were staying pretty close to each other. Rick's hotel was a five-minute walk from the restaurant, and Michonne's was about a ten-minute Uber ride.

Rick interlaced their fingers when they walked out of the restaurant. Whereas he was confident about how he wanted the night to end, the October air had a sobering effect on Michonne. It smelled like rain. It was dark out now, but she imagined that the clouds were heavier than they had been earlier. By the smell of it, they were ready to release at any minute.

She started thinking about power dynamics and her reputation. They were going to have to make a decision soon, and she would be floored, and offended, if Rick didn't go with the obvious choice, but they were not standing on even ground here. It would be one thing if she was the CEO of Greene Cargo, but she wasn't. She was a high-powered accountant, yes, but as a Black woman, her reputation was more fragile than Rick's. She didn't know much about him except that he was a great conversationalist, exuded charisma, and he turned her on.

Was he conniving or was he discreet? Was he an opportunist? If this merger went south, she didn't want it to somehow come out that they had seen each other naked.

The Sheraton Dallas Hotel loomed in front of them, tall and inviting. Squeezing her clutch, Michonne decided to be cautious.

"So, how about I drop you off at your hotel and call an Uber from there?" she offered.

Rick was thrown by the suggestion. Was she really blowing him off? He decided to subtly ask for clarification.

"Uuh, sure. When do you plan to call?" he asked, the lights from the businesses that lined both sides of the street allowing him to see her expressions.

Michonne laughed and shook her head. "Alright, Mr. Grimes," she began as she pulled him to the side of the sidewalk so that they wouldn't be in anyone's way.

"Mr. Grimes? We're goin' backwards here, Ms. Evans."

Michonne was too amused by him. "So we're clear: I want this. I want this to happen," she said as she leered at his chest. "But I hope you can understand my hesitation about going forward, considering what we're supposed to be doing. The _only _thing we were supposed to be doing."

"I do understand," Rick said seriously.

"No matter how this goes between you and Maggie, no matter what you and your board decide, I don't want us having sex to factor into any of it. As far as everything's concerned, this did not happen. I came here, and I did my job and so did you." She lifted her eyebrows and waited.

"Understood and agreed."

"Good," Michonne said. "When's the last time you got tested and what were your results?"

"About eight months ago. All negative. Haven't had any interactions since. You?"

"Five months ago. All clear and nothing since. So we're in business." She stuck her chin out, slipping back into flirt mode.

Rick shook his head, grinning. "Has anyone ever told you you're adorable?"

"Yes."

"Anyone ever told you you're sexy?" he asked as he closed the minuscule distance that was between them.

"Yes," Michonne answered, quieter this time.

"Have _I _told you that you're adorable, and sexy, and I cannot wait to take you to my room?" he asked. He let go of her hand to pull her snug against him.

"No. You haven't."

When Rick kissed her, the kindle between them grew to an inferno that consumed and isolated them. Awareness of their surroundings dulled, and all Michonne could focus on was how well he kissed, how soft his lips were, and how soft his beard was. She wrapped her arms around him and caressed the nape of his neck.

When Rick licked her pillowy lips, he tasted wine, but he was already intoxicated by her. She slipped her tongue out to meet his, and desire pooled in his belly. He moved his hand down and clutched her ass. The firmness he found mirrored the growing state of his dick.

Michonne moaned, wanting him to rub her ass, wanting him to do a whole lot more to her ass. He wrapped the arm holding the wine bottle around her, and she immediately felt secure.

She heard more moaning, and it took her foggy brain a second to realize that it wasn't her. It was him. She opened her eyes to see him. His lashes were long, resting on his cheeks.

She pulled out of the kiss and sucked air between her teeth.

Rick wasn't having it. He cupped her cheek and kissed her anew. This could be what they did for the rest of the night, and he wouldn't have minded. Hell, it would be a good excuse for her to wait until the morning to call that Uber.

Michonne became acutely aware of how large his hand was on her face. She ran her fingers over his. They were strong. They would do well inside of her. She moved her hand to his back and caressed the expansive terrain, eager to touch his skin, eager to show him how wet she was after the banter during dinner. Her hand traveled down to cup his ass. It, too, was strong, solid. It made her think of a few other times she'd like to have him, like when he was fresh from the gym.

She ended the kiss again and stepped back, her chest heaving.

"You keep doing that," Rick said disapprovingly. He went in again, but Michonne gave him her cheek and laughed.

"We need to move before we get arrested for being indecent," she said.

Rick looked to his right in time to see a woman quickly avert her eyes, although she couldn't tame her smile as she started whispering to the man next to her.

Michonne began to stroke his beard, which brought his attention back to her. He dropped a firm kiss on her lips and said, "Let's go."

The rest of the walk to the hotel was uncomfortable for Michonne because of how wet her underwear was. It slid against her vulva with every step.

When they got to the Sheraton, she barely took in the large oak wood lobby or the wall of windows that let outsiders peek in. She didn't care about the skylight or the decorative candles dangling from the ceiling. She just wanted to know where the elevator was. By the speed at which Rick was walking, she guessed that he just wanted to get to his room, too.

There were four people waiting for the elevator, and Rick rolled his eyes. He had wanted to get a preview through the slit in Michonne's dress. The ride was quick, however, because they were the first to get off. He led her to room 516.

There wasn't much for Michonne to explore. The bathroom was immediately on her right when they walked in, and the closet was across from it. Next, she hit the fridge and microwave, and then the space opened into the bedroom. He had a king bed and a view of the city, which was currently obscured by sheer white curtains.

Rick set the wine on the large wood desk that was pushed against the wall and held his laptop, and she followed suit and set her clutch down.

"I'd like to give this to you," Rick said of the wine. "Say yes."

Michonne smiled. "Yes." She stepped away from the desk and moved her hands to the sash that held her dress together. She undid the bow and separated the two sides of the dress, revealing her black cotton bra and underwear.

She slipped the dress down her arms and dropped it next to her on the floor. Rick was mesmerized by her body, which she worked hard and ate well to keep toned. She shimmied out of her underwear and dropped it on top of the dress. Next, she went for her bra. She didn't do the fancy stuff. She took it off one strap at a time, and then, watching him closely, she flipped the small cups down.

Rick licked his lips. He was ready to see her deep dark nipples. He was not ready to see that they were both pierced, a silver bar running through each. The revelation turned him on even more. He wanted to know even more about Michonne Evans.

As Michonne dropped the bra, he left his spot and took her in his arms. He created a trail of kisses from the right side of her neck, skipping over her necklace, to her shoulder blade, noting there was a scar there. He palmed her taut ass with both hands this time, slowly rubbing her cheeks. He trembled at the softness of her skin. He continued his trail of kisses, going across her collarbone to her other shoulder blade and then reversing the path to go up the left side of her neck, to her cheek, and he cut off her contented sighs when he kissed her lips.

"Come here," he said, grabbing her hand. He led her back to the desk. He moved his computer to the tv stand, and then he wheeled the desk chair back. He held Michonne's waist as she sat on the desk, just to touch her. He kissed her again, because he couldn't get enough.

"Move back and open your legs," he directed.

Michonne let out a breath filled with nervous excitement and did as he said. She positioned her hands behind her and hoisted her heels onto the desk, opening herself up for his pleasure, her knees far apart, the cold hair in the room fanning her wet pussy.

Rick perused her body at his leisure. The dress had hidden how in shape she was. Every inch of her was lean muscle. He started by touching her collarbone with both hands and moved his way down her chest.

"I love these," he said breathily of her pierced nipples before he took the right one into his mouth. Michonne watched. She liked watching. She bit her lip as he pampered her erect bud with his tongue and lips, alternatively licking and sucking, making her clit throb, even though it wasn't getting his attention yet.

"This one," she said when her left nipple started to feel bereft.

Rick obliged, switching his attention to the other, licking around each little ball of her nipple ring. He sucked like he was nursing, vacillating the pressure that he applied between soft and hard.

Michonne had pierced her nipples long ago, after she'd stopped breastfeeding, but the piercings had made her nipples a bit larger and more sensitive.

Satisfied for the moment, Rick left her breast. He kissed her left knee and then straightened to look at her. She was the picture of wantonness, her lips parted, her pupils dilated, and her breathing heavy.

And then he looked down. What he saw made him want to unzip his pants, pull his dick out, and start masturbating then and there. Her hairy pussy was glistening, coated in her clear arousal. Her clit was out of its dark fleshy hood, swollen, big and obvious, and ready to be catered to. There was a small pool of her arousal on the desk. Even now, he watched a stream come out of her opening and slide down.

Michonne shifted forward a little so that he had a better view.

He did now, tilting his head as he watched the stream go straight down her butt hole and land on the desk. His mouth watered. He was hungry for a taste. He lifted blue eyes filled with lust to her.

"How open are you?" he asked.

"What are you talking about?" she asked with an abrupt chuckle, because she was literally open at the moment.

Eyes still on her, Rick used his thumbs to spread her ass cheeks apart. The unexpected gesture made Michonne experience a small orgasm, a tease of what she was expecting.

Rick felt her butt pulsing in his hands and looked down to see her pussy doing the same, opening and closing. Forgetting all about his question, he bent down and began eating her pussy. She tasted sublime, making him want more. He spelled his first and last name with his tongue.

"Please do that again," Michonne asked as she caressed his head. He obliged, labeling her with his name again. He sucked around her swollen labia, slowly making his way to her clit, slowly working her up.

After ending a dud of a relationship, and dealing with uninformed questions about why she broke things off with such a great guy, Michonne was right where she wanted to be. Granted, it hadn't even been a full night, but Rick was engaging. She was completely tuned in and interested. She was interested in what he had to say and what his plans were. He _had _plans that she cared about. And if all he managed to give her was a couple of orgasms, then she was alright with that. Hell, that was all that she wanted from him. And he was proving to be as good at eating pussy as he was at running his company.

Her legs began to twitch, signaling how close she was. Her breath grew more shallow and her moans louder. She pushed his head in and scooted closer. He became more greedy, slurping and suckling, on a mission to unravel her.

Unravel, she did. She yelled loudly when she came, her upper body springing forward. Her legs locked around his head, and she mindlessly fucked his face until she was over the peak.

She slumped against the wall afterward, the erotic tension from dinner finally drained out of her. "Goddamn, that was good," she cooed, a dopey smile on her face.

"You're tellin' me," Rick said as he straightened, his accent thicker. He licked his lips, not having wasted a single drop.

He unbuttoned his shirt and took it off, followed by the undershirt. He took off his shoes and socks, followed by his pants.

His white boxer briefs had a noticeable wet spot.

Michonne's smile widened. "You came?"

"Not yet."

"I love that," Michonne said sultrily, realizing it was pre-come. "I want you to put it in my butt."

Rick paused taking off his underwear, the straightforward request shocking him, pleasantly so. "Where the hell did you come from, Michonne?"

"Southside Chicago, Rick. Kenwood."

Even though he was with her, Rick coveted her. He knew now that one night wouldn't be enough. In this heightened state, he decided that if the merger somehow fell through, it will all have been worth it, because he met a woman named Michonne Evans. She was beautiful, and smart, and interesting, and she told him to fuck her ass.

"I can accommodate that," he said and took his underwear off.

Michonne dipped her head and raised her eyebrows, her stomach fluttering in happy anticipation at what she saw. Everything may be bigger in Texas, but if Rick's dick was anything to go by, Georgia had a thing or two to say.

"Oh God, I hope I'm ready for this," she said when a distressing thought occurred to her. She picked up the clutch next to her and opened it to search for a bottle of lube, unable to remember if she kept one in there. It had been so long, even when she was in her last relationship.

She wrapped her hand around a tube and pulled it out to the light. She squeezed it, feeling triumphant.

Her toothy smile made Rick laugh. She was a breath of fresh air. He retrieved his pants, got his wallet, and produced two condoms. "This answers my question," he said, referring to Michonne's request. "I was gonna ask if I can eat my way down your ass."

"I'm very open," Michonne answered anyway. She stood from the table on weakened legs and sauntered to him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him into a debilitating kiss.

Rick moaned when he pulled away. "Mmm. I'm so glad I met you," he said as he swayed with her.

"Same here," she said. She had needed the reassurance that she could still be excited about a person, that she wasn't impossible like her ex and some of her friends said.

Rick gave her a succession of pecks on the lips as he turned them around and walked toward the bed. "Turn," he directed. "And bend over."

Michonne could jump, she was so giddy. After a few tries early on, her ex had revealed that he was squeamish about anal sex, which had honestly been the first check in the dissatisfaction column for her where that relationship had been concerned.

Rick threw the condoms on the bed and took the lube from her when she offered it, and he threw that on the bed, too. They wouldn't need it yet.

She had an apple bottom, which was apt, because he felt like pleasuring this woman was good for his health. He liked how serious she was about her business, how thorough and bold.

He lowered to his knees and worshiped her ass. He had a very healthy ego, so he was invested in making sure that she didn't forget him, that she would want him to keep in touch after this. He ate her ass like it belonged to him, fucking her languidly with his tongue until she was shifting from leg to leg. He didn't ignore her cheeks either. He kissed them and bit them. And when he stood up, he spanked them.

The first blow caught Michonne by surprise. It filled the room and left her ass stinging like a bitch, although Rick rubbing the spot helped. "Goddamnit, do it again," she said.

Rick happily obliged, his dick hard and twitching. He angled the blows from the tops of her cheeks, the sides, and from the bottoms, always making sure to apply pressure after to lessen the sting.

The change in dynamic turned him on, from her authoritatively demanding more money out of him lest he lose his deal, to him standing behind her and spanking her. Her moans drove him wild. He was enjoying making her feel good. What he enjoyed more was the thought that she could turn it around on him. He hadn't gotten confirmation yet, and he probably wouldn't before the night ended, but he'd seen enough from her to make an educated guess. The expectation that he always be dominant in the bedroom had been a problem between him and his ex-girlfriend. He had shared his fantasy of being choked with her, and she had been dismayed. She'd tried it but had ultimately been too timid. Too timid: in the end, that had been the most irritating part about her, because it had shown up in other aspects of their lives.

"Okay!" Michonne cried out after the latest hit. "Okay." Rick once again squeezed her cheeks, which she appreciated. Nevertheless, her ass was on fire. She started shaking it, twerking just to help abate the pain, bouncing and tightening the muscles in her ass.

Rick moaned at the display, having only seen it at his favorite strip club. Michonne looked behind her and locked eyes with him. She bit her bottom lip and continued the show.

Rick kissed her bouncing ass and then resumed licking her cocoa hole. He moaned again at the feel of her cheeks shaking against his.

He was more than ready to be inside of her. He grabbed the tube of lube and poured it on his target.

"Go slow," Michonne directed.

"I know." He slowly inserted one finger and fucked her with it.

Michonne moved forward, careful not to break the contact, and she climbed on the edge of the bed. She spread her knees far apart and laid her torso down.

Rick rewarded her by inserting a second finger, drawing a guttural moan from her. "You are so perfect," he whispered.

Michonne rewarded _him_ by reaching back and spreading her cheeks. She wanted to do anything and everything to please him. His touch set her on fire.

When he eventually withdrew his fingers, she wanted to protest.

Rick poured more lube and scooped them inside of her with his fingers. He reached for one condom on the bed and gave her a kiss before he straightened.

He slipped the condom on, slicked it down with lube, and began the torture of fitting himself in her ass. And he wanted her to take all of him.

Michonne let go of her butt, because it was easier for him to control it. The initial push was both familiar and foreign, foreign because of his girth. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing and relaxing.

Rick concentrated on not blowing his load. The more inches he gave her, the tighter she was around his dick.

Michonne was exhaling loudly through her mouth, clutching the sheets from the seductive mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You okay?" Rick asked, voice strained.

"Yeah," she answered, voice even more strained.

"Let me know if you want me to pull out."

"No," she grunted. "It hurts a little, but it's good."

His dick wasn't crazy long, but the width of it made the process feel eternal. It was an eternity that neither minded experiencing.

He bottomed out, and Michonne's ass fluttered around him. Rick held her hips tight, his eyes rolling back at the incredible sensation.

"Fuck me, please," Michonne moaned.

Rick spanked her, and she gasped, "Yes."

"God," Rick grunted, thankful for his ambition to grow his company. Approaching Maggie Greene was the best fucking move he ever made.

He began moving, slowly. He filled the room with grunts and quiet curses, and she filled it with little ouches and moans.

He pulled out a little and poured more lube on his dick and then pushed forward, filling her with one long stroke.

"Oh God," she moaned, just as long, curling her toes.

Rick gingerly increased the rhythm. When she rose onto her hands and began fucking him back, he knew that she had adjusted to his size. Or she was just ambitious.

Michonne threw her ass back on him, shivering from how filled she was. His dick took up complete residence in her ass and all she wanted to do was ask how she could make him more comfortable, because she wanted him to stay.

It was a good hurt, which was dulled some more by the additional lube. Her ass was one of her most sensitive erogenous zones, and it had been dickless for a year and a half. Her fingers and toys did not compare. By the way Rick was stroking her down, she knew that she was going to get her due.

Rick patted her thigh and told her to move further onto the bed, because he wanted to get on as well.

Michonne acquiesced, and they resumed fucking each other in proper doggy style. Rick had a vice grip on her small waist, driving his hips forward. Michonne competed by thrusting her ass back, slamming her thighs into his. They met each other in the middle, flesh against flesh, working up a sweat, Michonne letting out high pitched yells, Rick matching her with a gruffer tone, both relieved to finally connect in the manner that had been on their mind throughout dinner.

Similar to when they were kissing on the sidewalk, everything fell away. There was no context outside of them. Life for Rick resided in her ass, and he reached for it with every stroke. Life for Michonne was his dick, and she wanted nothing beyond it. Unless someone broke the door down, they were not stopping.

"Goddamnit, Michonne! Jesus!"

She whipped her head around to look back at him, and it was a fierce version of the look he'd seen on her face after he'd ended his call at the restaurant: mouth open, eyes desirous. This time, she was openly lewd: passion in action. Rick's muscles tightened, and he began to careen over the edge.

He was a sight: teeth gritted, face tense, his eyes glued to her ass. It overwhelmed Michonne's senses. She suddenly stopped moving and began trembling. She bunched the bed sheet in her hands and gave herself up, eyes shut tight, taking Rick's pounding. Her orgasm intensified sharply, unexpectedly, and she jerked against Rick, lifting her knees off the bed.

Rick cursed harshly and counteracted her movement so that he didn't slip out. Using his height to his advantage, he rose up and pushed her back down, never ceasing the movement of his hips. He was moving slower now, his strokes harder, as he spilled inside of the condom.

He put his weight on her and pinned her to the bed. His strength was sapping, and he needed better leverage to ram into her. He felt like he was never going to stop coming. It was the most consuming orgasm that he had experienced in a long time. He was coiling tighter than a spring. Michonne twitched hard. She sounded like a broken record, loudly emitting the same erotic sound over and over. Her cheek was mushed into the bed. She was mindlessly meeting his thrusts now, her movements slower, too.

They laid there afterward, waiting for their pulse to return to normal, Rick still on top, mindful to take his full weight off of her now.

"I don't wanna move," he lamented into her shoulder.

"Don't," Michonne answered.

Begrudgingly, he pulled out, reveling in the sensation as he did so.

"No," Michonne protested, missing him with every inch he stole from her.

Rick kissed her shoulder and unstuck his sweaty body from hers. "Oh shit," he whispered under his breath when his feet touched the ground. He was weak in the legs.

He looked back at Michonne. Her butt was wet with lube. Grinning, he walked to the bathroom and disposed of the condom. He took two washcloths and wet them with hot water. He cleaned the semen off of his tip with one. He rinsed it and then dropped it in the corner near the garbage can. The other washcloth, he brought to Michonne.

He carefully cleaned her butt. She propped herself on her elbows and watched. He gently ran the towel between her cheeks, and she giggled.

Rick chuckled in return. He dropped the washcloth on the floor and climbed into bed. He stopped over her butt and boldly licked the length of her split, and she squirmed. He topped it with a kiss on her tailbone.

He laid next to her, and Michonne moved over to plant a long kiss on his lips. "Thank you," she said.

"Thank _you_."

"Am I crazy, or was someone knocking-"

The phone on the nightstand started ringing, and they jumped.

"Jesus Christ," she said, laughing.

She moved off of him so that he could pick it up.

"Yes?" Rick answered.

"Mr. Grimes," responded an exasperated front desk clerk.

"Yes."

"We have been trying to reach you. We have received complaints from some of our guests about loud noises. We appreciate your stay with us, Mr. Grimes, but we care about the comfort of _all _of our guests. Please keep all noises at an appropriate level?"

"You received complaints from my neighbors?" Rick asked for Michonne's benefit as he laid his head back down.

Michonne's eyes widened, and a mischievous grin highlighted her face.

"These were guests," the clerk said vaguely. "Please keep the noise level down-"

"I'll turn the tv down," Rick cut her off.

"I thank you."

"We're sorry!" Michonne said loudly into the phone.

"What the fu-" Rick exclaimed and quickly hung up.

Michonne broke into a laughing fit.

"What was that?" Rick asked. He lunged to tickle her.

Michonne yelped, partly in surprise, because no one had tickled her since her mid-twenties.

"Stop!" she yelled as she struggled to get away.

When he did stop, they were parallel to the short ends of the bed.

"I just couldn't help myself," she said, laughing. "What are they gonna do, kick you out? You're checking out tomorrow anyway."

"I am checking out tomorrow," Rick said, reminded of the brevity of the time they had together. He flopped back onto the pillows, and Michonne moved to lie next to him. Rick turned on his side to face her and began playing with her hair, curling the ends around his finger.

"What are we gonna do about that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Michonne asked as she stared into his beautiful eyes.

"I know this never happened. I agree. I think we should put it in a box and keep it separate from everything else."

He didn't go further. Instead, they stared at each other. Michonne began playing with his beard. She found everything about him sexy. He was commanding but also gave hints of being pliable. It was a seductive combination.

"You were incredible," Rick said quietly. "You felt amazing."

"So did you. You were…top notch."

"I don't think there's a problem with keeping things in that box and revisiting it from time to time."

"Oh God, what do you mean?" she asked, knowing exactly what he meant and knowing she was ready to agree.

"I mean I'd like to keep in touch," Rick said. "I have your number. You have mine."

"Mmm, that sounds like complication," she said as she changed her position to face away from him.

Rick lifted onto his elbow, curious and highly amused. He became more amused when she didn't budge. "Are you serious right now? You just turned around and put your butt in my crotch."

Michonne's stomach flipped over. "What?" She asked. She lifted to look behind her and sure enough, her butt was on his dick. "Oh my God!" she said, mortified. She flipped onto her back like a fish out of water and covered her face with her hands. "Oh my God."

"Are you serious?" Rick asked again, laughing. "What the hell was that? What's the physical version of a Freudian slip?"

Michonne struggled to answer in her fit of laughter. "I don't know. Fucking…horny? Good sex? Good head? I don't know."

They slowly regained their composure and resumed staring at each other, Rick playing with her hair and her stroking his beard. "It was good for me, too," Rick said. "It was _great _for me. I'm saying that it doesn't have to end."

"I am not flying to Georgia. We're _co__lleagues_, Rick. And I'm not even on your side."

"I don't care about you being on my side if you're on my dick."

"Oh my God!" she whispered, genuinely scandalized by his candor.

"I'm serious."

"I…can tell!"

"You just let the front desk know that we were up here having sex, and you're lookin' at me like that?" he said in disbelief, which made her laugh. "I don't get you. But I like it. Besides, if you're pushing for this merger to go through, then you are on my side."

"Well, that's true," she admitted. "But I'm not representing your interests."

"Like I said…"

"Right. You only care about certain kinds of interests where I'm concerned." She sighed. "Don't think this will affect how I do my job in any way."

"I don't want it to. That's why this is in a box."

"What time is your flight tomorrow morning?"

It was Rick's turn to sigh. "Eight twenty. And I can't push it back, because I have a lunch meeting at one o'clock."

Michonne shook her head. "Why do we do that? Why do we schedule shit as close to when we land as possible? Why can't we just take the day off to decompress like normal people? I do it, too. I fly somewhere, and I start working as soon as possible. Unless I'm on vacation. I've always been conscious about not crossing that line."

"Well, you know I don't know. I just stepped down as Chairman, and I'm one who works on vacation. My one hard line has always been the kids. If I'm with them, I'm not workin'. We need to stop and smell the roses, Michonne. They smelled pretty good tonight."

"They did," she agreed. "Were you ever married?" she asked.

"I was, but we ended a long time ago, and my job was only a symptom of the problem. You?"

"Yeah. Honestly, it was a mistake. We did well together before marriage, and it was one of those, 'Well we're five years in, and the baby didn't destroy us, so why not?' It was one of those mistakes that you knew you were making, but you made it anyway?"

"Yeah."

"I ended it years ago. We were married eleven years, together sixteen."

"We married right out of high school," he said.

"Oh, God. Shotgun?"

"No, love. Youth. It was good for a long time. I was…naïve. Idealistic. We lasted for fifteen years, five years too long. I really pushed, tried to work through infidelity."

"You?" she asked, disappointed by the thought of him being a cheater.

"No, her."

She visibly relaxed, and Rick chuckled. "You're so obvious," he said.

The comment touched her in a way that she didn't expect. Obvious. She was obvious to him. Transparent. Easy. Not difficult. Not a challenge. What the fuck was difficult about her?

She wanted to see him again. And maybe she wouldn't. Maybe what they experienced tonight would fizzle over the long distance. Maybe he'd get too busy or she'd get too busy. Maybe. But she had never walked away from a good thing, despite what her exes and friends said, only unfulfilling ones.

"We can stay in touch," she decided.

Relieved and overjoyed, Rick moved on top of her. "Good. I'll pay for your Uber."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**: Face Time

by: _avintagekiss24_

Michonne pours a little more Vodka into her glass before popping another green olive into her stiff drink. She takes a long sip, closing her eyes and moaning just a little as the liquid slips down her throat and into her belly. It's been a long day, and there is no better cure than a nice, cold, _strong _drink. She opens her eyes seconds later and leans on to her elbows over the island in her kitchen, her free hand illuminating her sleek Iphone. She scrolls through her emails slowly, accepting meeting invites and pushing them times and dates over into her calendar. A text slides down the screen and a smile erupts onto her face.

_You busy mom?_

_Never to busy to talk to my favorite son._

Her phone begins to beep moments later, Andre's name flashing across the screen. She stands up, accepting the facetime request, "My beautiful boy." She coos as soon as they connect.

"Hey mama."

Michonne's face falls a little, taking in the sight of her son, "What's wrong? Are you sick? Did something happen? Tell me."

He laughs as he throws his backpack to the ground and plops down on the couch, "Nothing's wrong mom, I'm just tired. Had a long night and an early class." Michonne opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off before she can get the words out of her mouth, "And no, I wasn't partying. I picked up an extra shift at work."

She rolls her eyes, "I wish you'd quit that job. You don't need it."

"I do need it, I like having money."

"I give you money."

"I want to make my own way. The only way to do that is by working."

"You have your whole life to make your own way, Dre." She starts, her voice firm but loving, "You need to focus one hundred and ten percent on school. I don't want you getting distracted."

"I'm not getting distracted. I like my job, I like the people I work with. It keeps me busy."

She rolls her eyes again, taking another sip of her Vodka, "You just don't want them thinking you're rich. I know you, Dre."

"Mom, don't. Please."

"Most kids get in on scholarships there, I'm not stupid. You don't want them thinking you come from some hoity toity, well-to-do family. You're trying to fit in and I get it, but I really wish you would just-"

Andre tosses his head back onto the couch, an amused smirk on his face, "I didn't call you to argue, mother."

Michonne raises her hands, closing her eyes as she silently gives up on the conversation with her bullheaded son, "What's new with you? How's school?" She asks.

"I'm good. School is good. I'm learning about some really awesome new techniques that are helping me clean up my drawings. It is just, awesome."

She smiles warmly, tilting her head as he starts going on about his art. She has pushed him hard to get into architecture. With his artistic ingenuity, she just knew he'd be designing the next Guggenheim or Louvre. She'd love to see his name on the side of a building one day. But, his heart and mind had other plans and she'll just have to deal with eventually. But, hearing him speak about his art with so much passion and conviction, helps her deal quicker and quicker with his decision. He's happy, and that's all she could ever want for her baby.

"Enough about me, moms." He breaks after a few minutes, blinking those big brown eyes at her, "How are you? How's that big acquisition going?"

She nods slowly, "It's coming along quite nicely. Both parties are excited for this merger so, it's moving quite smoothly. I can afford to take my eyes off of it and focus on something else for a minute or two."

"Nice! Congratulations mama."

"Thank you baby. Maybe you'll find a new Ipad on your doorstep for your birthday if it doesn't get stolen by your roommate by the time you get off work, that is."

He laughs heartily at his mothers' not so subtle dig, expecting nothing less from her, "People can change, ma! I should have never told you he got caught stealing condoms!"

"Well, at least he was being safe, I can give him that." She rolls her eyes playfully, "So? Any cute girls up there?"

She can't help but giggle as her mini me rolls his eyes dramatically, "Mother."

"What? Just make sure you're being safe."

"Mom! For the love of all that is holy!"

"I'm gonna throw some condoms into your next care package. I look too good to be a grandmother, Dre."

"Since you're all up in my business, what about you? Huh? You haven't been out on a date in like a year."

Michonne scoffs loudly, trying to play off the memories of the sweet Rick Grimes that sudden begin to creep up, "I don't have time for any of that."

"Uh huh!" Andre smiles, "Can't take a dose of your own medicine!"

She rolls her eyes playfully again as a smile spreads on her lips, "I get it, I get it!" She laughs, throwing up her hands, "You made your point."

"So, I'm gonna shower and try and catch some sleep before I meet up with some of my buddies for dinner. I'll text you later, okay mama?"

"Okay baby. Thanks for calling. I've missed your face."

He smiles back at her, "I've missed your face too. Love you, mom."

"I love you kiddo."

The connection dies and she sighs heavily. She never thought she'd miss him quite this much, but it feels so good knowing he's paving his way through life without any major bumps or bruises; yet. She swipes over to her calendar; four more weeks and he'll be home for the summer. She checks the time and grabs her martini glass from the marble island before clicking her way across her hardwood floors into her bedroom. She emerges some time later, freshly showered and now dressed in her favorite piece of lingerie. She missed Andre, she really did, but being able to traipse around half naked is a luxury that every woman should have. Her body is covered by her latest purchase, a pink Geo Mesh Teddy by none other than Savage x Fenty. The neckline cuts deep down her body, right down to her belly button while her breasts bounce freely and naturally as she moves back out into her living room. Her short, satin robe flows behind her as she makes another pit stop into the kitchen, refilling her martini glass and tossing a few green olives into a small glass bowl before moving into the living room.

She plops down, placing her drink and snack on the square coffee table in front of the couch. She grabs her Ipad from charging on the end table and her trusty calculator before she flips on the television for a little background noise. She settles down a little further into the couch, tucking a leg underneath her as she begins to hunker down into the negotiation, contract, and numbers for her upcoming project. She loses herself into her work, but only for a few minutes until the distinct sound of a woman moans breaks her concentration. She peaks up quickly, her finger stopping in mid air as she plugs numbers into her calculator as the love scene unfolds before her. She moves her eyes back down to her ipad, grabbing her phone to check her email as it dings softly, but then glances back up at the screen.

She watches for a few more minutes, but clears her throat and dives back into the work before her. She needs to get this done. She really wants to get things moving in a positive direction so that she can close the Greene/Grimes deal and have this acquisition well on its way so she can actually spend some time with her son while he's back home on vacation. Minutes later, her brown eyes flip back up toward the screen, watching as Ryan Gosling enthusiastically goes down on Michelle Williams. Michonne shifts slightly as her core starts to react to the scene, her body temperature starting to rise, her muscles tightening, her lips beginning to lubricate. It's been a while, ever since the insatiable Mr. Grimes entered her life. She can hardly believe it's been three weeks already, but he had turned out to be _exactly _what she needed. She wishes she could get a piece of him right now.

She shifts again unconsciously as vivid memories of his lips and tongue swirling around her swollen, wet clit. A shiver creeps down her spine as the sensation of his talented tongue slipping along her glistening lips begins to ripple through her body. It's like he's _there_, all over again. Fuck, she needs some more of him. She tosses her calculator onto the coffee table and sweeps over to her contacts on her ipad, scrolling quickly through the hundreds of names before she lands on his. Just as she goes to hit the call button, an incoming facetime illuminates the screen.

Rick tilts his head back, letting the hot stream of water wash over his face and through his short salt and pepper tresses. He pushes his hands through it, the water splashing to the floor of his large walk-in shower with a loud thud as he turns underneath it, letting it cascade over his back. He thought stepping away as Chairman would free up some personal time, but he seems busier now than he's ever been. Meetings, calls, emails, traveling, it all seems like its intensified over the past few weeks. He's glad to be home, in his own shower, and about to fall into his own California King. He's exhausted, hungry, and has been dreaming about falling asleep since he literally woke up this morning, but his growling stomach takes center stage. He showers quickly, and steps back out into his lavish bathroom, haphazardly drying his body, allowing small drops to water to still cling to his skin. He pulls on a pair of Gucci boxer briefs and moves through his quiet apartment into the kitchen, making a straight line to the refrigerator.

He pulls open both doors and rests both hands on them, tapping his fingers against the stainless steel as he mulls over his options. Not feeling like a sandwich, or the left over Rissuto from lunch, he pulls open one of the drawers to find a fresh cut of steak, still wrapped from the deli. He smiles slightly as he pulls it out, knowing he'll have to slip Gloria, his housekeeper, a little something extra for taking care of him so well. He plucks a half empty bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon that was perched next to the milk and turns to toward the flat top burners. He pours himself a glass of wine as he prepares his meat, sipping it slowly as he adds a dashes of spices and salt to this beautiful cut of steak. He scoops a little butter into the pan in front of him, hearing it sizzle as the heat from the stove begins to melt it. He places the steak into the heat and finishes off his wine as the sizzle grows louder, the meat instantly beginning to brown.

He flips it after only a minute or two, knowing that steak is best eaten rare. He pours himself another glass, his brain still whirling with work issues, distracting him ever so slightly. He turns his attention back toward his meal, grabbing a knife to slice into the top of the steak. It's the perfect color of pink on the inside, the outside browned just right as the butter still pools in the pan. _You know how steak should be eaten_. His words float back to him, smacking him right in the face as he pauses. Michonne Evans. What a succulent treat she turned out to be. He can't help the sly smile that spreads across his face as he moves his steak from the pan to his plate, the _feel _of her coming back to mind. A shiver runs down his spine. She was incredible. Sexy, smart, and knew exactly what she wanted. The perfect combination.

He sits quietly, sipping his wine and eating his rare New York strip chewing slowly as details from their first night together fill his mind. Her curvy body in that Maxi dress, how her firm behind felt in his hands, how she tasted… he shivers again. She was a tall, cold, glass of water to a dehydrated man. He wanted more. He _needed _more. He stands quickly, gulping down the rest of his red wine as he pushes away from the marble top bar, his erection pushing against the tight material of his boxers. He moves back into his bedroom, grabbing his ipad from his nightstand before plopping down on the bed. He scrolls through his hundreds of contacts, his free hand absentmindedly cupping his hard dick, squeezing and releasing the pressure as his stomach begins to constrict from lust and arousal. He stops at her name, closing his eyes quickly and saying a little prayer that she answers before tapping on it gently and clearing his throat.

Michonne stares down at the incoming FaceTime. Rick Grimes. What are the odds of that? She swings some of hair over her shoulder and sits up a little straighter, adjusting her robe to show off her diamond necklace that highlights her perky breasts and cleavage. She accepts his call and smiles sweetly as his devilishly handsome face fills her screen, "Rick Grimes."

"Michonne Evans. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful actually." She answers, holding up her Martini and olives, "And yourself?"

"I'm kinda lonely." He says lowly, poking out his bottom lip slightly and getting straight to the point while still being playful and flirty.

"Aww," She coos, "Poor baby."

He smiles and takes a deep breath before staring back into the camera. Michonne shifts slightly again, squeezing her legs together to create a pressure against her now swollen, wet center. His blue eyes peer back at her, his bare chest rising and falling with every breath, his hair still damp. He is a walking turn on. How a woman hasn't snapped him up by now is a mere mystery to Michonne.

"You like what you see?" Rick asks suddenly, a smirk playing on those perfect lips of his.

She shrugs defiantly, returning his devilish smile, "What makes you think that?"

He sits up against the headboard, pushing his ipad away from his body a little further to show off more of his chest, flat stomach, and just a taste of his dark happy trail. Michonne lets out a slow breath and a hint of a moan, "You just can't seem to keep those big brown eyes off of me."

She bites her lip and tilts her head, her dreads spilling over her shoulder, "You're teasing me." She states seductively.

Rick fakes insult, placing his hand to his chest as her giggles send a shock right through his body and straight to his now pulsating balls, "_You're_ teasing me."

"How?" Michonne asks as a smile spreads across her face, "You called me all naked and saying you're lonely."

"I see those pretty titties on full display. Seems to me you were waiting for me to call."

"I was getting ready for bed, thank you."

"Dressed like that? All by yourself?"

"I don't dress for the affections of men, Mr. Grimes. I dress for me."

He smiles again, "I love that confidence." He basks in her smile for a moment, before dropping his voice to a lower level, "Show me the rest."

She wastes exactly zero seconds. She leans back into the couch and props her legs open, one still tucked beneath her, the other bent at the knee as she sways it slowly back and forth. She moves the camera along her scantily clad body and down the deep cut of her teddy and the valley between her supple breasts. Rick takes a deep, happy breath as he smiles slightly, his fingers itching to feel her smooth skin. Michonne bites her lip again as her head tilts to the side as she stops, giving him a full view of the wet paw print her body has made against the thin, pink material. Rick inhales sharply.

"You are too beautiful." He lets out, squeezing his hard dick and balls with his free hand again.

"Thank you." She coos, oozing confidence and raw sexual energy.

"Why are you so worked up if you're all by yourself?" He asks quietly.

"You know that movie Blue Valentine? The part where Ryan Gosling goes down on Michelle Williams?"

He nods slowly, "I do."

"Made me think about you," She answers quietly, licking her bottom lip as she covers her sex with her hand, pressing down against her now sensitive clit, "And that tongue of yours." She whispers.

"That's just wonderful." He coos back, flipping the camera to show off his own arousal, "I was thinking about you too."

Michonne takes a deep breath, her teeth sinking into her thick bottom lip again as her fingers begin to rub slow circles against her lips and clit. That bulge should be in a museum, "That's all because of little old me?" She asks seductively.

"Oh yes ma'am." Rick grunts as he pushes his hand underneath the rim of his boxers, "You wanna dance for me? Wiggle it a little bit like you did for me last time?"

She laughs but pushes the ipad onto the glass coffee table in front of her. She stands and turns, bending over slightly and rests her hands on the couch. She starts twerking that plump ass for him, bouncing it up and down as she pulls the material of her teddy in between her ass cheeks. She rolls her hips seductively, then drops down before bringing it back up slowly for him again. Rick bites the inside of his cheek as he watches her flesh bounce and the sound of her cheeks clapping fills her living room. She peeks over her shoulder at him as she tosses her hair, pulling it over her shoulder and then pushing it back to let it spider down her spine. She separates her legs and bends over, wiggling her behind from side to side as she smiles back at him.

"Beautiful." He mutters as he squeezes his dick in his hand.

She spreads her cheeks apart for him, allowing him full view of all her glory. Her pussy shines underneath the lights, her puckered hole pulsating for him as he looks on. She lets her flesh go after a moment and twerks it for him a little more, rolling her head and letting her hands roam along her body as she moves.

"You are too good baby."

"Can I tell you a secret?" She asks lowly, as she ends her little dance for him and props herself back up on the couch.

"Of course you can."

"I took a pole dancing class earlier this year. Just for fun."

"Oooh," Rick coos, another devilish smile cracking his face, "You'll have to show me some moves whenever we can get back in the same city."

"That's a deal, Mr. Grimes."

His stomach jumps as his warm fingers wrap around his thickness again, "You remember how I felt baby? How this big dick spread you apart?"

Michonne's eyes flutter shut as her own fingers slide underneath the thin material still covering. She rubs the length of her pearl, her fingers sliding through her lips, coating her digits with its sweet nectar, "Oh, I remember baby boy. You felt so good. So _strong_."

"Mmmm," Rick hums as he pushes the black material down his thighs, finally giving her the full visual of him. He grabs the base of himself and wiggles it gently, letting her see his length and girth, "You miss me?"

"Ugh, do I ever."

She inhales sharply as Rick watches her eyes close gently again. Her chest begins to rise and fall faster, her nipples pressing against the thin material, her dark areolas visible. Her face is enough to make him want to spurt all over her stomach, but he wants to see what's going on just out of his view, "Show her to me, baby."

Michonne is too happy to oblige. She pushes her leg open further and outstretches her arm to full length, giving him the perfect view of her body. Her saturated sex stares at him in all of her glory as Michonne pushes the teddy to each side, allowing her breasts to join in on the fun. She smiles slowly, keeping her eyes squarely on the camera as it shows the length of her body. Her arousal glistens in the light, sparkles almost as Rick begins to stroke his length from base to tip. Michonne pushes her fingers through her dark pubic hair and over her hood, biting her lip again seductively as she rubs her clit. Rick watches as her long fingers push along her sex and start to tease her opening, dipping in ever so lightly before she pulls them out again. Precum spurts from his tip as he sweeps over it, using it to lubricate the length of his shaft.

Michonne eyelids lower, leaving just slits for her to see Rick slowly teasing the head of his cock with his fingers before he drops them back down to the base so squeeze and pull at his hard balls. His cum glistens from the low light in his bedroom and Michonne can't take it much longer. She remembers that strong hand slapping her bare ass, the sting of it, and her core tightens almost instantly. She imagines her fingers are his as she slides one, and then two inside of her awaiting sex, letting out a soft moan as her muscles spread at the intrusion. She slowly begins to pump her fingers in and out of herself as he watches on, moaning himself as his dick jumps in his hand. He wants to feel her again, so goddamn bad. Her tight, wet, soft pussy enveloping his hard, rigid cock, swallowing it up and clamping down on him as she pulsates.

_Fuck._

Rick keeps a hand on the top of his ipad as the bottom presses against his stomach as he begins to bounce his hand faster up and down his length. Cum continues to spit from his tip and slide along his shaft as Michonne pushes her fingers deeper inside of her, removing them only to spread her lips for him to show him every inch of her. She rubs her clit slowly as she flips the case of her ipad back, creating a stand so she can set it on the coffee table, wanting and needing to use both hands. Rick does the same, releasing his grip on his dick just long enough to reach for the case and pop the ipad back into its place, before pushing it to the side of his bed to give her a side view of his body as he jerks it to and for her. She leans back into the couch, using her now free hands to rub her breasts and tease her thick nipples as her other hand continues to play with her hood and clit and lips.

She pinches her right nipple and slides her fingers back inside of her, letting out another moan as she hooks her fingers inside to graze against her G-spot, "God, you are perfect." Rick mumbles through choppy breaths as his hands continue to move up and down his dick, while his other hand pulls at his balls again.

"Mmmm," She coos lightly, another small smile spreading across her lips, "You like that daddy?"

Rick inhales sharply again, a jolt of electricity firing off in his body, "Fuck yes. I like it when you call me daddy baby."

"Ok daddy. I'll remember that."

She spreads her legs, making Rick wish he were there in the flesh to sop up the juices splashing against the inside of her sculpted, muscular thighs with his tongue. He'd nuzzle his face right between those thighs, her pubic hair scraping against his face as her cum coated his beard and chin. He'd hook his arms around those legs and eat her like a four course meal, letting her legs squeeze around his head and neck until she erupted. He tenses quickly, his back raising from the bed slightly as another jolt washes over him. Michonne watches as he works himself up and her fingers join in on the fray. She pushes her free hand down her stomach and in between her lips once more, rubbing her clit faster and she continues to pump her fingers in and out of her opening.

Neither one says a word, not really needing too. Just watching each other is all they really need. Rick rolls to the side a little, stroking his dick and spilling his precum out onto the sheets as he watches her begin to pat her clit with her hand. She rubs quick circles, then pats it a few times again, the pressure of the hits making her a little more frenzied as the mood and tempo quickens between them. Both bodies wanting a release, both coming closer and closer to eruptions with each passing minute. Electricity bounces off of the walls of her body as the muscles of her sex begins to tense and then release as she teases herself. She can feel the pull in the pit of her stomach then slowly begin to rise as her hips begin to jerk as her orgasm threatens just beneath her skin.

Rick writhes on his California King, his toes clenching as he pulls on his balls and coaxes more cum out of his tip as he works his hand up and down. His balls constrict as his stomach tightens. He tries to keep his eyes open as sweat begins to pop up along her brown skin, and between her ample breasts as she fucks herself with a fury. Rick can't help his moans and grunts as they grow louder, bouncing off of the walls of his bedroom as his heart thumps against his chest.

"Oh my god, I'm gonnna cum." Michonne gasps, throwing her head back against the couch as she more moans fall from her lips. Her fingers slide along her swollen, hard clit as she strokes it quickly and scratches at her g-spot, "I'm gonna cum Rick. Oh, God."

"Come for me, Michonne. Give it to me girl." He musters as he bends his knees slightly, slamming his head back into his pillow.

The feel of her satin robe against her skin, sends shivers down her spine as she writhes against the back of the couch. She uses the tip of her index finger to feather her clit and she taps at it in quick succession, pushing her other fingers deeper inside of her as she tries to coax out her orgasm. It's so close, she can taste it on the back of her tongue. She begins patting her clit again with her hand, rougher this time, quicker, and squeezes her thighs together to intensify the pressure, which does the trick. Her orgasm is set free like a caged bull bursting through its gates. She throws her legs open as she goes back to rubbing her clit as her octave rises as she pants and her orgasm rips through her. Her mouth falls open as she bucks her hips forward, her fingers having trouble completing the full circles against her pulsating clit.

She spreads open her lips again with her free hand, pulling away quickly to show him her pearl as it convulses, jumping up and down as she cums. Rick grunts deeply at the sight of her soaking sex, her juices dripping from her opening as she works through her powerful orgasm. Her tight nipples stand at full attention as she arches her back from the back of the couch, her breasts bouncing and jiggling with every move she makes as she continues to rub out every ounce of her release. He pulls at his balls one last time, his fingers digging into his course pubic hair as her chokes the head of his dick. He wiggles it back and forth before her cups the tip again and bucks his hips into his hand. He thrusts again, a deep grunt escaping from his chest as he finally breaks through his own dam. His hot seed spurts from his aching, pink head as Michonne watches on as another wave of her own orgasm washes over her.

Cum splashes over Rick's stomach and thighs and hand as he pushes it out, not stopping his strokes until he absolutely cannot take any more. Michonne tweaks her nipple for him as her fingers slow down against her sensitive pearl, her chest still rising and falling quickly. Rick continues to work himself out, although his hand slows as the last ounces of his nectar spews from his body. He slams his head back against his pillow as his legs fall back flat on the mattress. He runs his clean hand over his face before letting it fall to his chest as laughter begins to fall from his lips, "Holy fuck."

Michonne giggles as well, completely relaxed as she lets her head roll to the side, "Holy fuck indeed. That was almost as good as the first time."

"I second that." Rick spreads his fingers slowly, his sticky cum spreading between them, "I gotta clean up obviously." He chuckles.

"No, no. Wait. Let me see you." She asks sweetly, grabbing her ipad as she stands on shaky legs.

She watches as Rick reaches for his own ipad and flips the camera as she shuts off the tv, grabs her martini and moves back into her bedroom, her heels clicking against the floor. She smiles as his stomach comes back into the picture, his milky cum splashed over his abs and in his pubic hair as his dick still stands tall. She falls onto her bed, her one foot dangling off the side as her pump slips from her foot and to the floor.

"I wish I could clean you up with my tongue." She lets out as she checks out her own screen, her breasts pushing up as she lays on her back, "You probably taste as good as you look right now."

He chuckles as he flips the camera back to his face, "I'll let you have a taste whenever we can meet up again."

"And when will that be?" She asks, cuddling down into her mattress and fluffy comforter as her eyes suddenly become heavy.

"I'm not sure. I can't really get out for the next few weeks, with this merger and all going on." He wiggles his eyebrows at her.

She giggles, "Neither can I. I'm watching over your merger plus trying to facilitate two others so, I'll be on the West Coast for the next few weeks."

Rick stands and moves into the bathroom, washing his hands quickly before wetting a washcloth and rubbing it over his now softening penis and through his pubic hair. He moves back into his bedroom and grabs his phone from the round charger, going straight to the calendar on his phone. He lays back down and comes back into her view as his face and eyes are now illuminated by the smaller screen, "How about the first weekend of December? My daughter flies back to Austin on the first ."

Michonne clicks her tongue slightly as she goes through her own calendar, "I can't that weekend. I have seminar to attend and my sons' winter break actually starts at the beginning of December, so he'll be home. Umm, can you do the middle of December? Maybe the third weekend, before Christmas? I might be able to fly out for a long weekend if I can convince him to spend some time with his dad, which by the way, will take a lot of convincing." She laughs.

"Oh yeah? They don't get along well?"

"Not at all. Dre still holds a lot against his dad about our breakup. He took it pretty hard, and finding out that he was cheating didn't make it any better."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I couldn't imagine having a broken relationship with either one of my babies. I want to be there for everything. I can't do the third weekend unfortunately. Judy and I are flying to Europe to see my oldest."

"Oh, that's right. Spain, right?"

"You got it. We'll be out there until the second week of January."

"Holy hell," She giggles, "This is going to be tough, isn't it?"

"It's proving to be, huh? Well, how about we just keep in contact until we can free up some time in the new year. Once this merger is complete, I'll have a lot more time to myself, then, I can come see you instead of you having to make the trip."

She nods, "I can deal with that. You just have to promise that three weeks won't go by without you calling me again though."

"I'm sorry baby. I promise, we'll keep in touch. Okay?"

"Okay." She bestows a bright smile onto him again.

"Fuck, you are dangerous." He chuckles, "Sweet dreams Michonne Evans."

"Sleep tight Rick Grimes."

"I'll talk to you soon, girly."

She wiggles her fingers at the screen before it the call disconnects. She tosses the ipad to the side and closes her eyes as a smile spreads across her mouth again. She sighs gently and kicks up her legs long enough to pull the covers out from underneath her. She sits up and sheds her robe, tossing it to the floor before she falls back into her mountain of pillows and fluffy comforter. She wiggles down into the mattress and rolls over onto her side, losing herself to sleep within minutes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3:** Texting

by:_ ashncole_

"The year over year projections have been steady with respect to seasonal highs and lows. Overall, everything has fallen in line with our transitional forecast," Tara Chambler was saying as she used a small silver remote to click through her presentation of monetary graphs.

The glass encased conference room was filled with the Grimes National executive board members, congregated together to cast their final vote on the Grimes/Greene merger.

A formality, as far as Rick was concerned. He was confident he had more than enough votes needed to secure the deal so he was hardly interested in hearing information he already knew. Instead, he relaxed in his ribbed leather seat and scrolled through his iMessages to avoid total boredom.

Aaron Rhodes, his closest advisor and CFO, glanced at him out of the corner of his eye - likely noting Rick's mental absenteeism to call him out for it later - before nodding at the young lady at the head of the room. "Excellent work, Tara, thank you."

Tara nodded. "No problem. I also have the latest market projections, some of the numbers have changed within the last few hours."

"Don't they always," Rick said, distracted as his cell phone vibrated with a new message. He smiled inwardly at the name gracing the top of his screen before lifting an eyebrow in Tara's direction."Anything to be worried about?"

"Worried? No. For the most part it's been the usual commotion. I wanted to use this time to address any last minute concerns," Tara responded with an easy shrug.

Rick nodded his go-ahead before returning to his phone and Tara launched into full on broker-mode, diving into the most recent trades in the NASDAQ and NYSE markets.

_Hard at work or hardly working? _Michonne had sent.

Rick kept his face neutral, belying his excitement at the mere sight of her name, as he sent back a quick _What do you think? _

He fought against the smile threatening to make an appearance at the sight of those three little dots alerting him that she was composing her response.

_You strike me as a man who can do both..._she replied.

Beside him, Rick heard a humorless chuckle and he lazily let his eyes roll in the direction of one of his shareholders, Deanna Monroe. "Cargo Exec has been making some noise," she noted, with her eyes on the screen at the head of the table. "Jadis isn't happy we're turning her down," she then commented to Rick directly.

Rick shrugged indifferently returning to his phone. "She'll get over it."

_How was Texas? _Michonne asked before he could respond to her last message. This time Rick did smile, endeared that she remembered him mentioning heading to the Lone Star state to visit his daughter.

_It was good to see my baby girl. Good to getaway in general_, he sent back.

"I heard they tapped on Conway Express," Deanna continued, interrupting Tara's presentation again. Her tone was pointed and Rick knew was because she wanted him to give more than his nonchalance on the matter. Deanna had been one of the more vocal oppositions to his final decision and she seemed intent on reminding him of that now.

He sighed and swiveled in his seat to give the woman his attention. He was hardly in the mood to play nice with one of the few holdovers at the table. Not at this stage, when everything was all but signed. "Something else you wanna add, Deanna?"

Deanna met his glare with a stern look of her own, not willing to be dismissed. "I just want us to be sure we're making the right decision."

Rick tilted his head and squinted at her. "And you think we aren't?"

Deanna shook her head. "I didn't say that."

"Sounds to me like you're not saying much of anything," he said, nodding to the stock analysis on the screen before them. "Jadis wants a big win to settle problems of her own making at Cargo. If she wants to play a game of cat and mouse with her own profitability, I say let her have at it. But it won't be with us."

"Even if she manages to strike up a deal with Conway Express, I think she'll find Negan to be more underhanded than her. It's probably best we keep our distance from them both for the time being," Aaron inserted before Deanna could say anything else to put her further on the outs with their CEO.

Deanna pursed her lips but didn't comment further, mainly because she knew they both had valid points. Cargo Executive and Conway Express were entering into precarious territory, having both been turned down by Grimes National. She had to admit, if only to herself, staying away from cluster was likely in their best interest.

"Right, so we all good on that point?" Tara asked, taking in the rest of the room before finally letting her eyes fall on Rick for confirmation. He nodded, once again head down in his phone and Tara took that as her cue to continue her report.

Rick was happy to find another text from Michonne waiting for him, it kept his agitation with Deanna at bay for the moment.

_Everyone needs a break. I'm glad you chance a take some time for family_, she had said.

And she was right, being with his children was always a welcomed reprieve. And now he found himself wanting to make time for something else, or rather someone else. He sent his reply hoping to gauge how soon he could make that happen. _What have you been up to? _

...

Michonne grinned at the message staring back at her. She had heard from Maggie that the Grimes National executive board was meeting today for a final vote on their impending merger. She had figured it was a shot in the dark to get a response from the man leading the charge but she had had a _day _and found herself trying nonetheless_._

The energy in her office was tense as her entire team sat on pins and needles until the deal was official. She escaped into her office, unable to sit in the bullpen with everyone else waiting for that inevitable phone call to either alleviate or agitate their collective anxiety.

Instead she relaxed on the camel leather sofa nestled in the corner of her office, letting her forest suede Jimmy Choo's dangle over the edge of the armrest while she texted a reply to Rick's latest query.

_Oh you know...a little of this, a little of that. _

He didn't respond right away and she assumed it was because he had a lot going on. So she tapped down her disappointment and decided to let him go back to his work.

_It's a big day. I don't want to distract you if you're busy_, she sent, knowing that was hardly the truth.

This time his response came in seconds. _And what if I want you to?_

Instant butterflies fluttered around her insides at his simple words. She felt like she was in high school again, sneaking a late night conversation with her crush instead of the grown woman she actually was, texting a grown man from her high rise corner office.

An idea came her to just then and she sat up a little. Since he enjoyed teasing her so much she would tease him right back.

She tapped her screen to bring up the front-facing camera and brought a hand around the back of her neck to sweep her locs over one shoulder. She examined herself for a moment before flicking open an extra button of her silk blouse, enough to reveal the black lace top of her bra. She lowered the camera slightly so that it would only capture the coy smile playing on her lips down to the plunging neckline of her shirt.

Michonne sent the image along with, _I'm not sure you know what you're asking for._

...

Rick blinked twice at the picture, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from visibly reacting to it.

Conversation continued around him oblivious to his increasingly racy dialogue. He had to remember to find a way to reward Tara later for her impeccable handling of meeting, she hardly ever needed to defer to him for clarification or authorization. She knew her stuff which was why she was a rising star within their ranks. He would need to find a way to make sure she knew her efforts weren't going unnoticed.

But he would address that later.

For now, he had other things he preferred to think about.

_Not bad_...

_Show me what else what you got_.

...

Michonne giggled at his cocky response, enjoying it. The fact that he was likely somewhere in the Grimes National headquarters, surrounded by advisors and executives turned her on even more. He had an audience, so he would need to behave.

She wondered how far she would have to go in order to make him break.

With the temptation of that thought in mind, she rose gracefully from her seat and walked over toward her office door. She secured the lock with a satisfying click then made her way back towards the sofa.

After positioning her phone sideways against her glass terrarium of African violets, she set the camera's timer and eased onto all fours across the sofa, deciding to limit this one to her lower half only. She lifted her hips and admired the way the beige pencil skirt she wore accentuated her curves in the reflecting image. She bent her knees so that her stiletto heels were also visible as the timer counted down to one and snapped the shot.

...

Rick hadn't put his phone down, too enamored by the wonder that was Michonne and her willingness to tease and be teased. So when the next message came through, he felt his dick jump.

He had said it before but by God this woman was perfect. Her sex appeal was effortless and she knew it, making her all more dangerous. His theory about this was further proven with her next message.

_Remember when you had me like this?_

How the fuck could he forget? That night was seared into his memory forever, as was every interaction with her since.

_Oh, I remember_, he replied. _What else have I been missing?_

_..._

Michonne giggled at his reply as she sat up right on her sofa, thoroughly enjoying their little game. She tapped her finger to her lips as she considered what to do next. After a beat she stood and sauntered over towards her desk, deciding to go no holds barred. She positioned her camera on the bookshelf behind her desk and then unzipped her skirt. She let the fabric fall to the floor and moved to undo the rest of the buttons on her blouse next. With her skirt discarded and her blouse undone to reveal matching black lace _La Perla_ bra and panties, she pressed the timer to begin counting down before hopping onto her desk and spreading her legs to give him a full view.

With one hand flat on the desk behind her, she eased the other just over the apex of her core, tilting her head slightly to give the camera an innocent smile just as it counted down to one.

...

Rick bit down on his lower lip at this latest image. Fuck, she was right, he really had no clue what he was getting himself into. He wanted her right, the fuck, now.

The room was getting little hotter and he shifted in his seat as he cleared his throat, unwittingly attracting the attention of everyone else in the room. His advisors, colleagues, and subordinates stared at him expectantly at him as if waiting for a meaningful remark to be contributed to their conversation.

"Everything look okay, Rick?" Aaron asked him, outwardly appearing to be talking about the conversation at hand. But the pointed look his friend was leveling him with said he was referring to something else entirely.

Rick glanced at the flat screen monitor at the head of the room. Tara had reclaimed her seat at the table and Eugene was now leading the conversation with deck detailing an outlook for the fiscal quarter ahead.

And just like that he found his out.

"I don't want us to get too much into the weeds with this," he said, nodding at the screen, "these are conversations we can have after the merger is final."

"I agree," Tara said with a nod, "if we get too granular with the details, we'll be here all night."

Aaron was inclined to agree as well and he reluctantly shifted his eyes from his friend to the rest of the room. "I think we all know where this is going but for the sake of the minutes, shall we put it to a vote?"

The room at large concurred and Rick led with his formal vote in favor of the merger. And down the line it went. Once the deal was voted on and final Rick readily stood from his seat and excused himself.

_More_, was all he sent back to Michonne as he made his way out of the conference room and into the privacy of his own office without another word.

...

Michonne didn't need to be told twice. Hell, she was already turned on just by the thought of turning him on. She reclaimed her phone from the shelf and took a seat in her high-back chair behind her desk.

She inserted her fingers inside her panties, surprised but not really by how wet she was already. She slid down slightly in her seat and pushed her fingers in and out of herself gently and snapped a photo of the deed without thinking much of it.

She sent the photo with a quick swipe and continued to let thoughts of its recipient take her deeper and deeper into an abyss of her own making.

...

"Fuck, Michonne..." Rick exhaled, having finally made it to his office and opening his latest message from her.

She was gorgeous, and what's more, she was clearly enjoying herself...without him but with him in mind. A conflicting thought that had been eating at him since their last conversation. He knew what it was like to be where her hand was now, and she did too. They had been surviving off of memories for too long as far as he was concerned.

But damn it, if this wasn't almost just as fun.

He made sure his door was locked before rounding his desk. One hand palming his growing erection through his pants and the other one-handedly replying _I want more..._

...

Michonne was startled by the buzzing of her cell phone. She read his message through heavy lids, almost too far gone in her own pleasure to see it. But who was she to deny such a wonton request from the source of her bliss?

She removed her fingers, wet with her own nectar and opened the camera again. This time she recorded her sucking them clean, moaning at the taste of herself as she did so.

...

Rick shuddered in his chair, stroking his fully erect member to the sight and imagining those perfect pouty lips wrapped around him instead.

He replayed the video once, twice, and then a third time. Letting the sound of her moans take him over the edge. Thankfully, he managed to snag a Kleenex from his desk just in time to save him from making an embarrassing mess on the floor.

After cleaning himself up he settled back into his seat with a sigh and chuckled. What was this woman doing to him?

It didn't matter. What did matter was how he was going to repay her for this. The time for games was over, he decided as he dialed her number.

She answered on the first ring and breathlessly asked, "was it as good for you as it was for me?"

Rick chuckled again, running his fingers through his hair as he exhaled through his nose. "You put on one hell of a show, Ms. Evans."

"It helps to have a captive audience, Mr. Grimes," she returned coolly.

"I need to see you," he told her, enjoying their banter but needing to get to the business of the matter. Something he knew she prided herself on being able to do, so he figured she - of all people - would understand.

"Haven't you heard? The merger is official. We might be seeing each other sooner rather than later," she told him, having heard the celebrations occuring outside her office just as she reached her own climax.

Rick grinned, settling back into his chair. "Good," he said in a low voice that made her sensitive core tingle in anticipation, "I'm looking forward to it."

Michonne smiled, relaxing back in her own seat. "Me too, Grimes, me too..."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 ** Phone Sex

by: vnprofessional

After the fact that the merger was set and ready – agreed upon and dusted off – the formality of the business dinner wore off quickly and it turned more into a celebration, probably because he tried his best to turn it into one. Despite the pointed glances and Deanna's nudging, he couldn't stop himself from getting everyone to calm down and take a breather and enjoy a nice _expensive _dinner after all the talk and the numbers were out of the way. Everything was secured, and he was sure it was as much of a huge weight off his shoulders as it was on everyone else's. The next obligations coming up should be a breeze in comparison. It might've been early in the day, but that was no excuse. Not as far as he was concerned.

Sure, he'd been doing this for years, and he probably wouldn't trade it for anything else. But it helped to let it all ebb away every once in a while, and revel in it from a safe distance, behind the chatter of coworkers and a fancy presentation of food and drink.

All of that being said, he hadn't had nearly enough drinks as he'd liked. It was still a business meeting after all. And yet, with the one glass he had, he felt warm around the edges, the alcohol brimming underneath his skin somehow, his eyelids falling half-shut by the time his driver dropped him off. From there to the door, a solitary rain drop had found its way onto Rick's head, and he felt it trickle down behind his ear before it melted away into the crisp fold of his shirt collar. By the time he had let himself into his home, the humidity was starting to set in, and the clouds had closed in around the sky.

And then, by the time he shucked off his blazer and grabbed himself a tall, cold glass of water inside, a downpour had found its way to Atlanta.

He sat back on his sofa and put his glass on the side table – not without a coaster first, of course. Shifting to pull his phone out of his pocket, a discomfort sat in his chest – he could chalk it up to the fact that he hadn't properly indulged himself in the dinner, or he could blame it on the fact his phone showed no notifications. Nothing from Carl, and nothing from Judith, either. It ached in him, but it took him all he had to not be overbearing and call them up. Besides, Carl was probably – should be – fast asleep by now.

And then, there was the "Michonne" absence.

It had been weeks since they last spoke, and the last time they did it was through text messages and quick breaths over the phone. He smiled to himself at the memory, bringing the glass back up to his lips after his throat went suddenly dry at the thought.

Perhaps that's what he'd been missing.

He shifts in his seat, straining against himself – his pants suddenly feeling tighter. The rain is beating down relentlessly against his windows, and he watches that for a second or more until he finds himself a train of thought worth acting on.

Yeah, he definitely missed that, alright.

He kicks his shoes off by the sofa and gets up to grab a beer from the fridge. He pops the cap off on the counter, a faint cloud of air rising from the opening. Making his way back to his comfortable seat, he scrolls through his contacts before he lands on her name. It only takes him two beats before he taps it, ringing thrice before the line clicks open.

"_Allo?_" Michonne's voice croons over the line, accented. It's music to his ears.

"Hello," his tone is teasing.

"Oh," she readjusts. On the other side of the line, she smiles to herself at the sound of his voice. She hadn't checked her phone to see who was calling, and if she was being honest with herself, his voice was the only one she needed to hear after her day. And after the weeks of work without him, too. It's like he read her mind, miles away. To think, she nearly left it to ring without picking up. "Hello, Mr. Grimes."

"Michonne," oh, that accent she had missed so much. Hearing her name in that drawl made something rush through her veins instantly, like she had been rejuvenated somehow. "It's been a while," he hums absently into the line, his thumb moving up and down the neck of the bottle he was drinking from.

"It has," she smiles to no one in particular.

"Where are you?"

"I'm… in Paris."

"That sounds fancy."

"Hm. I wish," she said, throwing herself back on the hotel bed. The city's street lights were pouring in through the window at this time of night, casting her in orange. "I'm just here for a seminar. I haven't had nearly enough wine or cheese for it to be considered 'fancy'."

"You should fix that."

"At one in the morning?" she says, quickly glancing at her watch. "Let me figure out how, first."

"Shit," he says, looking at his own expensive watch. "I'm sorry."

He's so genuinely apologetic it makes her giggle slightly.

In truth, this wasn't the first night she laid awake in this same hotel room, on this same bed. She's been in Paris a few days now – coming up to a week – but still couldn't adjust to the time difference and had been dogged down by the weight of jet-lag. On the day she went out with Jacqui just to see the sights, she was running on coffee and the sheer thrill of being in Paris again after such a long time. Today, at the seminar, she spoke till she was hoarse and kept her eyes open as best as she could, her bones aching tired in her clean black heels while she tried not to be bored into sleep. This was just an obligation and it soon became clear that nothing new was being offered to her, and the number of people who commented on how fluently she spoke the language weren't helping – it was all so monotonous that it was a miracle she didn't pass out on the spot.

Except whenever she got back to her room, the buzz of the day and the amount of caffeine she had ingested made her sit up at night, stirring and groggy, collectively gathering maybe two or three hours of sleep altogether.

"Don't be," she tells him, her stockinged legs knocking against the edge of the bed. She was still dressed, apart from her blazer which had been thrown to the side. "It's been hard getting much sleep at the moment. Jet-lag, you know."

He hums around the mouth of the bottle to indicate that he does, in fact, know. Then he laughs to himself, something low in the back of his throat.

"What?" she asks.

"Oh, nothing," he puts the bottle down. "I just had an idea. Might help you sleep some."

"Oh? Do tell."

"I was just thinking about the last time we spoke. The time before that. And the first time…" he trailed off, momentarily losing himself to the memory. On the other line, she blinked to the ceiling, her fingers teasing at the waistline of her black pencil skirt. One part of her knew she should put a stop to this and try to squeeze in a few hours of sleep, but another part wanted to keep listening to hear what he had to say.

"Rick."

"What— You don't think back to that night?"

_All the time,_ she doesn't say. Instead, she opts for;

"Of course, but you're _actually_ going to wake me up like this. I'm trying to sleep."

"You could've hung up."

Michonne sighed. He was right, he did give her that chance.

"God, it was—you were _amazing_," he continues. "I can still remember every breath you took, shaking through you. The stretches of your skin – and what I wouldn't give to kiss at them right this instant, Michonne," he said, feeling himself getting hard underneath his sleek pants just thinking about what he wanted to do to her. He swore he could hear her let out an exhale.

"Rick," she laughs quietly and low – a sultry quality escaping her that she didn't mean to be so obvious. "I think—" she swallows, "I think you're being more of a _distraction _than a help, right now."

"You want to know what I think?" he said. The rough timbre of his voice resonating in her ears as she dipped her hand past the waistline of her skirt and even further downwards. _God, _did she.

"Tell me," breathless as she recalls the feel of his fingers against her.

"Distractions," he unfastens his belt. "Distractions are the best thing in life. Isn't that how this started? The moment I saw you, all that shop talk was useless, because I was so _distracted._ I was convinced from the moment I laid eyes on you. The way you carried yourself, the way you _spoke— _that was enough for me. But you already know that, don't you?_"_

Michonne was now _considerably _distracted. Thinking back to the moment she first saw him after being so fashionably late, thinking about how all the research she did and the photos she saw of him hadn't done him justice, and how the last thing she wanted to do was talk business, it became the only thing on her mind. And behind all the professionality, wrestling with the thought of running her fingers against him, pushing his head low between her legs; all of it rose back to the surface.

The more he spoke to her – the more he recounted the way she felt against him, the way her skin smelled, and just how beautiful she was – the more she found that the restraint of her clothes was bothering her. Her hand at an awkward angle from the tightness of her skirt, she pulled it out to unbutton her shirt, as though exposing more of her chest to the air would help her breathe easier.

"Just watching you from across that table, thinking of all the ways I could get you out of that dress, all the ways I could _undo _you, to hear you and feel you quiver around me. All the ways I _did—_God, you were so wet before we even got started."

Michonne could barely stand it. The flirtation suddenly disappeared into a cloud of smoke and just like that, all she wanted was his hands on her. For now, her own hands and the sound of his voice in her ear would do.

"Keep going," she said, impatient. Her hands were scrabbling for the bottom of her skirt as she pulled it up, exposing the length of her legs and her panties. Dipping her fingers under them to touch herself finally – and she was just as wet as she was that first night before she'd even been touched – she pictured Rick's blue eyes, blown out from the _want _and the desire. She imagined them glancing up at her from between her thighs and she let out a heavy breath for him as she threw her head back. In turn, she heard him groan.

Back in Atlanta, the rain still just as relentless outside, Rick's eyes _were_ blown out – almost completely black – with the image of a sleepless, restless Michonne waiting on a plush bed, her toned and long limbs outstretched, and her hair flowered out behind her. Waiting for _him._ If only she could see him, legs wide apart and his straining against the fabric of his trousers. He palmed himself through it as he spoke, delighting himself with the idea of her fingers racing his own as they tangle to unzip him.

"No," as much as he revelled in the memories of their first night together, he wanted to leave her with the promise of something; of what she had waiting for her. "No, I think I'm going to tell you what I'd like to do to you. As much as I'd _love _to see you in that dress, again," he chuckled. "And out of it."

Teasing, he reckoned, was his way of proving to her that two could play at that game.

"God, Rick. Just—Tell me. _Tell me."_

"_Impatient,"_ he hissed out. "I just know you'd writhe, like you are now, as I kissed you slow, every _inch _of you – your collarbones, your nipples, your stomach. Up from your ankles, to your calves, to between your thighs—"

In reality, he had no interest in the long-play. He probably couldn't have controlled himself if he could see her right now, with her skirt hiked up her body and the parting of her knees welcoming him closer. But from over the phone call, he held onto control.

"Are your legs open for me, Michonne?"

"_Yes,"_ she almost whispered. He could hear her whimper and it took everything in him to not climax right then and there.

"Tell me, how wet are you?"

At this moment, she slid a finger into her own warmth and moaned around the sensation. Her piercings were making her all the more aware of how the fabric of her bra rubbed against her neglected, hard nipples. Her other hand was sweating against the phone, which had become her entire lifeline, at this point.

"I'm so wet, Rick," she said as he finally unzipped himself and wrapped his own hand around his length. "So wet, for _you_ Rick."

He stroked himself and hesitated to admit just how close he was to ruining his suit as he teetered dangerously on the edges of orgasm. It has been weeks since they spoke, and sure, he definitely thought about her, and touched himself once or twice thinking about their encounters, but something about hearing her dogged voice, low with the combination of a lack of sleep and pure desire… how he wanted to feel her warmth, to see her shake under him while he held her wrists above her head and she cried his name into his mouth, against his lips.

"God, I want you inside me. I need to feel you. I want to feel you as you—" she stuttered as she pushed another finger in alongside the other, pumping fast and aggressive as her back arched and twisted. Thinking about his hands on her, his fingers digging into her hips as he pushed his own flush against her was a golden distraction to say the _absolute _least. She thought of riding him, making him taste her as she towered over him, and then of him controlling her movements as she straddled his thighs, telling her when to stop – as they were close to the brink, just to tease her even more as he glanced his fingers across the planes of her body and she did the same with his.

She thought of _everything _at once and it was definitely driving her closer to the blinding white bliss she had so missed. Her grip on control began to blur.

"Michonne," his voice now strained and lower than ever before, and it went straight to her core as pure fucking _heat_. "Come for me, _Michonne_. Let me hear you come for me."

She exhaled his name. And with that, she came around her own fingers, rising on a high that forced her eyes shut and sent her back arching off the sheets. She moaned and let herself cry out _for him _as her entire body shook. Hearing her so completely unravelled by the mere thoughts they shared, Rick allowed himself to succumb to his own climax, bucking his own hips up into his fist as he spilled onto himself, making a mess of his shirt and suit pants – a problem for later. She heard him grunt and bit her lips as she slowly withdrew her fingers.

For a short while, they just breathed; Michonne's chest rising and falling, bathed in that orange streetlight. She glanced at her hand, moving her fingers back and forth in the light, looking at her own slickness on them.

"I wish you could taste me right now, Mr. Grimes," she said, breaking the silence.

"Oh, so do I. And I will, soon," Rick, with his head thrown back onto the sofa, smirked at the thought. It brought him back to reality as he assessed the damage on his shirt and trousers, sighing as he came down from the high. "Whenever you're back, you'll tell me, right?"

"Of course," she said, peeling off her stockings now.

There was a longer pause, more sombre somehow, as she sat up in bed.

"I know you're busy—I'm busy, too—but we should see other, again. More, I mean," a beat. "More often."

"Yeah, we definitely should," he says, thinking about all the times he wants to see her again, and what he wants to do to her – with her – during each of those times, exciting a darker laugh out of him.

"What?"

"Just thinking, but don't let me distract you, anymore. I'm sure you'll be nodding off soon enough without any more of my… help."

"Stop it," she laughed, knowing he could very easily talk her to another climax. Now, she was reasonably exhausted enough to squeeze in some sleep. "If you promise me that you can make time in that busy schedule of yours, Mr. Rick Grimes, for me, then I'll make you the same promise. I'm sought after, too, you know."

At that, he laughs.

"I'm sure you are. Everyone who meets you just can't get enough of you."

"You won't ever get enough of me, Rick. But you know that."

"Yes, I know. But—I promise."

"So do I," she smiles. "I'll see you soon, hopefully."

"_Bonne nuit, _Michonne," he says in his own unique accent of French, which makes her giggle.

"_Bonne nuit, _Mr. Grimes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5** Snapchatting

by: deep-ricking

Michonne missed Rick - it was simple as that. All this traveling and varying time zones had gotten the best of their…relationship? What were they doing anyway?

Upon their first meeting, Michonne was taken aback by his unassuming good looks. He looked so handsome in his crisp button down shirt. His pink lips commanded her attention as he spoke. Those lips later brought her to ecstasy that she hadn't felt in far too long. This man could also satisfy her from across the Atlantic Ocean, what more could a woman want?

When she was in Paris, Rick asked that they keep in touch on a more frequent basis. She could admit that she has been busy with her team ironing out the last few clauses of their merger, but now the dust has finally settled. The only thing left was for Rick Grimes to sign on the dotted line and Michonne is confident that he will. She can't wait for this entire business venture to be over. It's time for her to live.

Her _Peanut_ is now an independent young man, working his way through school. He's learning about what he loves and she knows Andre will pave his own path to success. Sure he's wrapped up in social media—like most of his peers—but he's got a good head on his shoulders. He's not one to be jaded by the tiny tiles and clips that appear on his feed. He's able to analyze and decipher that these are merely snapshots of what people want the world to see. He's a strong-willed, creative individual who will one day provide for his own family.

Thinking of Andre building a family of his own brings Michonne's thoughts back to her business acquisition turned lover. Her mind raced conjuring up memories of the previous encounters she shared with Rick—every time they connected sparks flew. As her mind raced, she began to get restless.

She tapped on her iPhone to illuminate the screen and after a few swipes she found the yellow tile with the white ghost in the center and tapped. When the app opened, she was greeted by herself as the front facing camera focused on her face. Michonne taps on her face which causes geometric shapes to appear along with the option of filters.

She swipes through until she finds a filter that adds a septum piercing paired with dark eye and lip makeup. She adjusts the light blue silk robe to show a little more collarbone and shoulder, then smiles and snaps a photo. In review of the shot, she decides to retake this time with more of a pout on her full lips. Satisfied with the final image, she taps the arrow in the bottom right corner and scrolls until she finds Rick's name and sends the selfie.

Awaiting his response, Michonne goes back to her email to ensure she has tied up any remaining lose ends for the merger. She loved to have fun, but she didn't want anything to impact the career that she had built for herself. She always checked for dotted I's and crossed T's to maintain her credibility in the industry and her hard work had gotten her very far in her career.

About 5 minutes later, a Snapchat notification appeared at the top of her screen. Seeing that it is a chat reply from Rick, she quickly taps the banner.

_Rick: I'm not very good with this app—Judith showed me how to use it when I last visited her._

_Michonne: I know the feeling. Andre shared this one with me, as well._

_R: I don't like that our messages always disappear, but it seems to be the only way I can reach her nowadays._

It was taking a little longer to receive a response from Michonne. Rick is still unsure of this 'Snapchatting' app, as he called it.

Rick was an empty nester of two post-millennials. They were constantly trying to keep their old man up to date with the latest technologies. He was just fine with his emailing, but apparently that was now considered "old school."

Rick ran a hand down his face and rubbed at his graying beard with a smile resting on his lips. While he missed his kids, he was proud of the life he'd been able to provide for them. They were the product of his good doing and their own ambition. While he loved his kids and missed having them close by, he enjoyed the stillness of his home.

As he sat on the couch with the TV tuned to the local new station volume low, he wished he had company with whom he could share the stillness of the evening. Rick leaned forward in his comfortable gray sweats and white t-shirt and picked up his glass of whiskey for a taste.

Leaning back into the couch, his thoughts wandered to Michonne and their last session. She was across the ocean in another country. His emotions ran high from the moment she answered his call to bringing each other to climax and finally ending the call with promises to reconnect soon. And tonight he felt an ache in his chest—he missed her.

He had never met someone with whom he was so sexually compatible. Michonne had a way of sending him from zero to one hundred in seconds. Thinking back to their first time, she said she wanted him in her ass, so that's how he took her. She was so confident and vocal in the way she sought her pleasure, which turned out to be an a unknown turn on for Rick. This long distance relationship that they found themselves in wasn't enough for him. With his kids moving on to become increasingly independent, he was ready to live.

As his mind continued to relive experiences he'd had with Michonne, his phone buzzed with a notification. His lips turned into a small smile seeing it was a snap from Michonne. He tapped on the small purple square next to her name to view her latest message. The video started angled toward her face. Then, panned down her smirking lips, to her full breasts which were covered in a dark blue see through lace balconette bra, down her toned stomach. Her free hand rested palm down just below her belly button while her fingertips danced along the edge of her dark blue lace thong.

This was not the way he expected to be using this app, but he most certainly didn't mind the show. He began to type a reply about how her video aroused him when another purple square appeared in the chat window he shared with Michonne. It taunted him with the words "Tap to view." He licked his lips and exhaled to steady himself, already knowing that he was in for a treat.

On the hotel bed, Michonne rolled herself from an upright position to her stomach and pushed up on her knees raising her ass in the air. She lifted the camera over her shoulder and angled it toward her lower half now uncovered by her robe and snapped a quick photo of her luscious ass in her barely there boy cut panties. This time she added text that read "Missing you" and hit send.

She receives a snap back from Rick. It's a photo of his hand holding his impressive erection through his sweats. She can see the firm grip he has on himself from the way his veins protrude on his forearm creating a detailed outline of his package. The text on his snap reads "Need to see you."

She responds with another video. The camera is angled at the meeting of her thighs. Her teasing fingers have made it inside of her panties. Due to the forgiving lace, Rick is able to see her fingers dip into her moist center repeatedly. She's finger fucking herself at a steady pace and the sounds of her fingers working her over is almost overshadowed by her lust filled moans.

Rick is unable to play coy any longer. He tugs his sweats over his length and he can see that Michonne has gotten him throbbing again within just a few seconds of seeing her. His cockhead is pointed at the ceiling and precum is dribbling from the tip. He almost forgets he's supposed to be responding to her most recent message.

He too begins to record a video. He uses the slippery precum to lube his cock to the base and begins stroking himself steadily. His hips work in tandem with his movements as he replays her video again in his mind. With a moan he asks, "are you that wet for me, baby?"

Michonne is greeted with a beautiful sight that she has missed as much as the man to whom it belongs. Rick's cock is beautiful in its aroused state and all for her. When did she become so possessive over this man and his cock?

She decides to change location to switch things up, so that Rick can get the full picture. She disrobes completely as she makes her way over to the office area in her hotel room. Her tongue breaks out and licks her lips as she remembers the last time she sent him risky photos from her office. From behind the desk, she is greeted with a full view of the city—which seemed equally alive at night as it was during the day.

She perched her ass on the cool surface and slid back until her back pressed against the glass. With her legs spread wide, she planted her feet and tilted her hips upward. She extended her arm with her front facing camera on and snapped a photo from her breast all the way down to her pussy and ass. She reviewed the image and noticed the highway traffic blur in the distance. She wondered if Rick would recognize the location.

'Damn, who knew this simple app could be so thrilling?' She thought to herself as she snapped the photo to Rick.

'Gorgeous tits, delicious pussy and that beautiful asshole all in one shot?' He quickly return in a chat reply.

Michonne let out a giggle. Of course he was focused on her body. She decided to make her intentions more clear.

She hopped down from the desk and approached the full length mirrored doors of the hotel closet. On her way she swiped the "Do Not Disturb" door hanger from the nightstand. As she stood fully nude in front of the mirror, she contemplated how she would deliver her next message. She flipped the camera so that it was facing the mirror and began to record.

"I would love an excuse to use this sign, but sadly I'm all alone," Michonne teased with the signage dangling from her index finger.

After seeing Michonne's latest snap, Rick stalled the stroking of his cock. Now he was feeling sentimental and little pent up. How he wished he could go to her this instant. He'd hop on a 24 hour flight if it meant being with her in person. It had been far too long.

He turned the camera to his face and began to record.

"Baby, you look so damn beautiful standing there. I wish I had a way of getting to you quickly. I hope we get to see each other in person real soon," he drawled.

Michonne responds via chat reply "There might just be a key waiting for you in the hotel lobby."

"Where are you? I'll book my flight right now," comes Rick's response. He doesn't receive a response in a few minutes. He tucks himself away and straightens his sweatpants. Then, his phone dings with the notification of a new Snapchat from Michonne. Upon opening the video, he is greeted with her lovely face.

"I'm staying at the Omni in Downtown Atlanta. I don't think you'll need to book a flight to reach me. I'll be waiting."

As she purred her last word her teeth are tugging her bottom lip into her mouth. A mouth Rick hasn't had the pleasure of tasting in months. Operating on autopilot, he gathers a small overnight bag and ensures his home is secure. He's out the door before his brain has a chance to catch up.

As he approaches the city via Freedom Parkway, he snaps a photo of the Atlanta skyline and sends it to Michonne.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter:** 6

by: _charrrmed_

The view of the Atlanta skyline made Michonne's adrenaline spike. She balled her hands into fists and grinned happily at the ceiling, hopping around the room and shaking out her hair. She needed to transform into a sexy vixen by the time Rick opened that door, so this giggly, girly energy had to be expelled!

She ended up in front of the closet doors and stared at herself in the mirror. She took a deep breath, trying to wrestle down the butterflies in her stomach. It was hitting her that she was finally going to see Rick in person again after _months_.

Doubt began to creep in. Their one and only night together had carried them far. It had inspired sessions on Facetime, texts, and even actual phone sex. But could they recreate that magic? Did they still have explosive chemistry?

Her eyes raked over her naked body. She turned around and gave an approving look at her pert ass.

She was about to find out.

The butterflies became rowdy again, and she inhaled and exhaled. She set her phone next to the wine on the dresser and uncorked the bottle. Surrounding the bottle were a few condom packets, and she hoped to use all of them over the next two days. She poured out two glasses then picked them up and gave hers a whiff, closing her eyes to savor the aroma.

Suddenly, she heard the lock unlatch, and she gasped. "_Shit!" _She hurried around the king bed and sat up straight on the edge, legs crossed, her pointed feet barely grazing the floor, both glasses in hand. She shook her hair so that the locs fell behind her shoulders.

Rick opened the door, and his breath caught. Across the sitting area, perched on the bed was the woman of his many fantasies, looking more beautiful than she'd appeared on Snapchat. "Jesus," he whispered under his breath.

He dropped his duffel bag near the door and stalked over to her. "Michonne Evans," he drawled.

"In the flesh," she said cheekily, giving nothing away of the ball of energy she'd been just a few seconds ago. "I hope you recognize this," she said as she stood and handed him his glass of wine, the same kind that he'd ordered at the restaurant all of those months ago.

Rick bypassed the wine completely. He grasped her waist and kissed her, slow and exploring. His desire quickly grew into a fog that enveloped him. He inhaled her moans and exhaled his own as he pulled her flush against him and squeezed her waist, wanting to imprint his hands on her skin.

She had not felt this good last time. She had not tasted this good. Her ass had not felt this good in his hands. Because if it had, if all of it had felt this good last time, there was no way he would've gone months without seeing her in person.

He picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around him with a gleeful yelp. He began to lay her on the bed, but she protested.

"Wait, wait, the wine!" Michonne exclaimed, holding the glasses high to keep the content from spilling.

Rick huffed and straightened, taking his knee off the bed. He set her down then took the glasses from her, taking a sip from one before setting both down on the nightstand. He grinned at the number of condoms she'd prepared. He planned to meet her expectations and then some.

Michonne clasped her hands behind her back, jutting her breasts out. "We're not talking?" she asked, her attempt at innocence betrayed by the grin on her face.

"We've done enough talkin'," Rick said as he came back to her. "And textin'." He picked her up again and laid her on her back. He kissed her, sharing the wine on his tongue.

Rick left her lips and slid down, eager to reacquaint himself with her nether lips. For months, he'd watched her fingers do what distance had prevented his from doing.

"Have you missed me?" Michonne asked.

"Yes," Rick answered before losing himself in the smell of her, the texture of her folds.

"I've missed you, too," Michonne said as he steadily drove her higher. She closed her eyes and focused on the skilled swipes of his wet tongue and the sucking of her labia, gyrating her hips as he edged her. She exhaled noisily and caressed his head as he agitated her clit. His moans tickled her ears, his enjoyment of her enriching her own desire. Electricity danced along her skin as she got closer, her nerves fraying. She pushed his head in and told him to keep going, the broken command falling from her lips. Sweet release swept through, swift and strong, making her thighs shake and tighten around his head.

"Mmm," Rick moaned as he sucked come from her labia minora.

Michonne blew out a breath and opened her eyes. "I definitely missed you."

"My turn," Rick said, his blue eyes heavy with lust. He stood up and took off his shirt.

"Is this what you're like when _you _get down to business?" she asked as she sat up on her elbows to watch him take off his shoes.

"With you, yes," Rick answered. "You don't know how many times I've thought about this. I've thought about this happenin' in a hotel room, at my house, at your house, my office, your office, the conference room I was sittin' in when you were textin' me those pictures."

"Now, that last one would be interesting," Michonne said as she watched him get started on his pants. "I've never done it in a conference room."

"Headquarters is about thirty miles from here, and I know how to get in the building," he joked.

Michonne sat up straight. It wasn't because of his invitation. It was because he wasn't wearing underwear. She licked her lips, her mouth watering at the sight of his dick.

"Wanna try somethin' new?" Rick asked.

Michonne reluctantly dragged her eyes up to his. "I wanna try something old. I wanna suck your dick."

Rick ran his hands over his hair, because he needed to do something with them, something that didn't involve pulling her off the bed and onto her knees so that she could do exactly what she wanted. "Not yet," he forced himself to say.

He turned from her and walked to the sitting area. "Come here. I want to teach you somethin'."

Michonne happily obliged. Whatever was going to get her close to his dick and the nectar that was waiting to spill.

Rick sat on the off-white couch and motioned for her to straddle him.

Michonne obliged again, but she spoke her mind. "This puts my mouth very far from your dick, Mr. Grimes."

Rick smiled. "Your mouth isn't going near it yet." He grabbed her left hand and kissed the palm. "I want you to try somethin', but only if you're willin'."

"Okay."

"Ever since we met, ever since that night at dinner, literally, I've thought about this. I've wanted this."

"Okay," Michonne said, excited to find out what he'd been wanting for so long.

Rick sucked his middle finger into his mouth and then placed it at the entrance to her ass, swirling the ebony hole with the pad of his finger, applying a little pressure. Michonne's face changed immediately, exposing her enjoyment of the new sensation, which made his dick harder.

"Atta girl," Rick said, practically moaning.

"I thought it was your turn," Michonne said, wanting him to stick his finger inside.

"It is," Rick confirmed.

Michonne kissed him, wanting to taste him again.

"I can't stop thinking about you choking me," Rick confessed in the hushed space between them.

Michonne raised her eyebrows and lowered her head. "Did I-uh…Did I hear that right?"

"Yes," Rick said. "How open are you?"

Michonne was immediately taken back to their first time. When he'd asked her that question then, he'd wanted to eat her ass and she'd given him more than he'd bargained for.

Like that night, she answered, "I'm very open."

Rick was relieved, but he wanted to be sure. "You don't have to do it."

"I want to do whatever is going to make you putty in my hands. Or mouth."

Rick laughed at her persistence. "We're not doin' the mouth yet."

"Fine," she griped.

"God, Michonne," he sighed as he sank further into the couch. Her thirst for his dick was doing a number on his libido. "You're a fucking Goddess," he said, as he squeezed one of her breasts, his eyes trained on her pierced nipples.

"And you're a pussy-eating God. Tell me how you want it."

"I hope I never forget those words: tell me how you want it."

Michonne laughed. However, she became the model student when he started explaining how to safely choke him. She sat back on his lap, and he suggested that she try it on her own neck first so that she had an idea of where she was supposed to aim. It wasn't about bearing down the full strength of her hand on his windpipe. She only needed her thumb and two fingers at most.

"What do you like about it?" Michonne asked.

"It's a rush. It makes it more intense. But it has to be done by the right person. Very few people tell me no anymore, Michonne," he said as he moved her hair resting in front of her left shoulder behind her shoulder. "On the rare occasion they do, they rush to justify it or offer an alternative. When we met, you came in with an energy that was…seductive. You were about your shit, and you weren't going to leave without getting what you wanted."

"I wasn't," Michonne confirmed.

"I liked that. I looked into you even more after that night, asked around about you, and it sounds like you kick ass and move big money."

"I do," she confirmed with a grin, her ego swelling. It was interesting to her that he'd been so attracted to her Boss Bitch Energy considering she'd walked into that restaurant begging the universe for a win.

"I like that," he repeated. "And you're _sexy_ on top of it. So when I'm about to come," he said, staring intently into her almond-shaped eyes, "I want you to choke me. Make it good for me."

_Make it good for me. _Those were the most flirtatious words he'd said to her yet. A thrilling sensation skittered in her chest. He truly was the most exciting man that she had met in a long time. She readjusted her position on his lap, summoning her Boss Bitch Energy.

"We'll ease into it," Rick said. "We'll do it while kissing until you get comfortable. If I hold up five fingers, that means I want you to stop."

"Got it," Michonne nodded.

"You can back out any time."

"I can get used to choking a CEO," Michonne said, which made him laugh.

"After I come, I want you to kiss all over my face and neck."

She nodded dutifully.

Rick watched her rise onto her knees again to capture his mouth. He felt her kiss down to his toes. Being with her in person rejuvenated him to a degree that he hadn't expected. During the drive over, he'd questioned if she'd really be there. The possibility of her being in Atlanta, so close to him, after months of being apart, had been so sudden. He was grateful for whatever had opened on her busy schedule to allow her to fly in. He could not get enough of Michonne. While he teased her butt with one finger, rubbing the rim, his other hand roamed up and down her back.

He felt her hand slide up his chest to his neck, and his excitement mounted. He had masturbated to the fantasy of her choking him more times than he could count, and, now, when her fingers pressed on his carotid arteries, he could've come then and there. Instead, something better happened: his dick got harder. His orgasm was still to come.

She lifted her fingers a little too quickly, but that made him hunger for more.

"You're doing great," he breathed against her lips, his euphoria rising with every release of her fingers.

He didn't have to tell her when to start jacking him off. Her other hand closed around his dick and slowly but firmly began to pump. Rick melted into the couch and held her thighs as he watched her slender hand work his cock, slicking his pre-come onto the shaft. She began to twist her wrist every time she neared the tip, and he twitched in her hand.

Her hand closed around his neck, and her fingers pressed on his arteries, and he grunted. He looked up at her, and what he saw made him tingle all over. She looked…greedy, like she wanted more from him, more of him, like she could eat him up.

"Yes," he moaned, extremely turned on. His adrenaline spiked when his brain once again registered the lack of oxygen.

She released, and his blood rushed, bringing him closer to orgasm.

"You look so good," Michonne breathed, her voice dripping with gluttony.

"It feels good," Rick confirmed as he leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, disappearing in his ecstasy.

His chest was tinged a pale pink, and Michonne ran her hand over it, teasing both of his nipples in turn. She replaced her hand with her mouth, and he hissed in a breath, much to her satisfaction. She felt him fix his neck so that he could look at what she was doing.

Rick Grimes' nipples were sensitive, and the thought pleased her. She rose up and enveloped him in a mind-numbing kiss.

Rick moaned loudly into her mouth. She was great at this. He snaked his hand to her center, and she was flooded.

He ended the kiss and commented, "I'm not the only one havin' a good time."

"You're sure not," Michonne purred. She'd been joking about choking a CEO, but she was finding that she liked the act very, very much. "You've put me on to something new, Mr. Grimes."

"I'm happy to be of service. And to be serviced," he joked. He used her essence to lube up her clit, and he began to rub her with three fingers, back and forth, collecting more lube each time he went toward her center.

"Mmm," Michonne moaned, the attention giving her chills. She brought her hand back to his neck and pressed.

"I'm close," Rick panted.

Michonne released her hold to lightly pinch his nipple, eliciting a groan from him. She kept the same pace on his dick, which was driving Rick crazy. He was as hard as diamond, harder than he could remember being in months.

"Now, please," he begged.

Boring her eyes into his, she closed her hand around his neck and pressed, licking her lips, practically tasting his come.

Rick's brain registered the lack of oxygen. He became hyper aware of her hand around his throat and everywhere else their skin touched. His body began to panic, the blood concentrating on his dick and neck. His brain couldn't decide if it wanted oxygen or the orgasm. "Yes, Yeah," he strained, his eyes falling closed, in heaven, his hand leaving her pussy to hold on to her thigh.

Michonne released. Oxygen rushed back through Rick's body, and his orgasm torpedoed him. He felt it in his belly, his chest, his fingertips, his head, and his toes. He cried out with abandon as his dick spurted come all over Michonne's hand, releasing his pent-up desires as she steadfastly jacked him off. He undulated under her, calling on God as he drowned in ecstasy.

Michonne let his dick go and licked his come from her hand. She was concentrated on what she was doing, so she missed his nose flaring as he watched her. She proceeded to do what he needed, adoringly kissing his face and neck, all while privately reveling in his taste.

Michonne retrieved the wine and rejoined him on the couch. Rick kissed her square on the lips before taking a swig from his glass.

"How are long are you here for?" he asked, enjoying the way she snuggled at his side.

"The weekend. I have a meeting first thing Monday morning."

Rick shouldn't have been surprised, but he was still disappointed, and it showed, earning him a sympathetic smile from Michonne.

"We'll see each other next month," she reminded him.

"Yeah, with a whole bunch of people tagging along," he groused.

"You're telling me we can't take advantage of a business meeting? _Us?_"

Rick laughed. Michonne, Jacqui, and their core team were going to come to Atlanta for the meeting. "Pencil me in for some one on one time," he said. "What are you doin' the month after?"

"Ah, I'm not sure," Michonne answered as she twisted a loc around her finger.

"We're plannin' a gala to celebrate the merger. I'd like you to do me the honor of being there."

"I can't attend without Jacqui," Michonne said reluctantly.

Rick leaned forward and nuzzled her nose. "I'm going to invite Jacqui. I'm invitin' you first."

"In that case, I'm available." Her eyes slipped from his face to his neck, and she saw the red finger-sized evidence for the first time.

Rick noticed her expression close and asked her what was wrong.

"It looks like you got hurt," she said as she gingerly touched the marks on his neck.

"I didn't," he assured her.

"It's just…strange to actually see it," she said, frowning.

"Hey," he called her attention back to his face. "It felt incredible. And you were great."

Michonne smiled despite herself. "I liked doing it. It was...thrilling. I felt both powerful and, I don't know, like I really wanted it to be good for you. Wouldn't mind doing it again."

"Good, because that makes two of us. I never asked you how audit season went."

Michonne raised her eyebrows, impressed that he remembered. "It went very well. I'm happy to report that I convinced Jacqui to drop the nonprofit."

"Congratulations," Rick said. He held his glass toward her for a toast, and she clinked with him.

"And I'm working on two new clients. Not as big as Grimes National or Green Cargo, but they're proving to be a good challenge. How are your kids?"

"Real good. Carl's still livin' la vida loca in Spain," he said with some disappointment in his voice.

"You're losing the battle to get him back over here, huh?" she asked sympathetically.

"I don't want my kid on another continent. He's still so young."

"He may not stay over there forever," she offered.

"What about you? How's your artist?"

"He's doing very well, making good grades and good connections."

"Speaking of good connections," Rick began, taking her glass away from her. He stood and placed them on the coffee table and then held his hand out for hers.

Michonne took it and followed him to the bed.

"I really like ours," he admitted. "I really like this," he said as he brought her close and ghosted his fingers up her back. "I don't want to only see you when we have a meeting," he said as he cupped her butt.

"I agree," she said, her arms around his shoulders. "What do you propose?"

Rick lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He got on the bed and laid her down. He was ready for round three. His mouth watered at the thought of being inside her. He grabbed a condom and sat on his calves to open it up and put it on.

"I propose that we meet two weekends a month, at the beginning and end of the month. I propose that we block out those weekends in advance so that we're not comin' in second to everythin' else we got goin' on."

He stretched out above her and slowly, very slowly, entered her. The sweet sensation made Michonne fold her lips.

"Yes. I want that," she admitted as her chest heaved.

It wasn't the last time she said yes that weekend. Rick Grimes made her emit a chorus of yeses.

**The End**


End file.
